He… was in a league of his own. A legend, a beacon, a hero, and, frankly, the finest example of mankind to ever walk this sorry excuse of a planet. Jaune Arc. The mere name was enough to send shivers down the spine of all who heard it—and trust me, I'd know.

Jaune wasn't just some hero off the assembly line; no, he was the ultimate one-man army, the shield of the oppressed, the legend of the desert. Once, I was just a wide-eyed kid barely out of diapers when he charged headfirst into battle against the SDC for us. And he didn't just "fight." Oh no, he practically put on a whole performance, throwing himself into the lion's den with nothing but his courage, his wits, and that radiant smile. He gave up his own freedom for ours, like some mythical knight. There he was, practically glistening in the harsh desert sun, fighting for justice, a real-life fairytale right in front of us.

The grimm came next, and it wasn't just any grimm. No, this was an army—a nightmare straight from the depths of our ancestors' worst stories. Hundreds, no, thousands, charging in like a sea of darkness. And what did Jaune do? Did he falter? Did he run? Not even close. He took them on, one by one, like he was just warming up. It was like watching poetry in motion, except that poetry was slashing, smashing, and decimating everything in its path. And there I was, young, awestruck, with a heart pounding so hard it could've drowned out the sound of Jaune's sword cleaving through wave after wave of grimm.

Oh, and then the SDC—cowards that they were—packed up and left us stranded to rot in the sands. Deserted us. But we didn't die. Why? Because he was with us. Jaune Arc was with us. And when you have Jaune Arc, what else do you need? Air? Food? Water? Not necessary. This guy was practically a life force unto himself.

What's that? You want to know about the Great War? Sure, I "participated"—not as a fighter, mind you, but as a supplier. I handled the essentials: food, water, the rare foot massage, you name it. But the real highlight? The moment Jaune Arc looked me dead in the eyes, placed those golden, calloused hands on my weary shoulders, and said, "You're tired. Here, let me handle this."

I felt like I could've melted right there, just become one with the sands for all I cared. He was the GOAT, the Greatest of All Time, and there was no denying it.

—Adapted from the documentary 'Will of Fire: The Tale of a Hero'.

—X~X—

Ruby shifted her weight, feeling her nerves hum as she waited outside the principal's office. She tugged on the stiff collar of her new uniform, fidgeting under the suspiciously grandiose portrait of Ozpin that seemed to watch her with one eyebrow raised. Just a day ago, Principal Ozpin had nearly been "assassinated" by the so-called Wooden Demon. You know, Jaune Arc—the boy everyone was now labeling as a criminal mastermind with a penchant for dramatic entrances and questionable tactics.

But that didn't sit right with her. Jaune Arc? A criminal? It felt about as believable as Weiss enjoying pizza. Sure, his social-engagement skills could use some refinement like her—okay, maybe a lot of refinement—but he was… nice. She'd seen him save civilians from a falling crane in the city. Just summoned a nice not-so-little umbrella on the road. That was heroic, right?

Then there was the time he'd saved students during Initiation, even her and Weiss. Heck, hadn't he even shielded a second-year girl from a knife during a fight? A faint memory hit her: Velvet, that bunny-eared Faunus. The same Velvet who was standing next to her, shuffling awkwardly as they waited.

Ruby stole a glance at her and, with all the grace of a nervous first-year, blurted, "Sooo… uh… floor tiles, right? Pretty, uh, pretty sturdy, don't you think?"

Velvet blinked, her fluffy ears twitching in confusion. "Oh, uh… yes. Very… very polished." She paused, then pointed to a spot on the floor. "Except that bit. Looks like someone's coffee cup… didn't make it."

Ruby squinted at the faded coffee stain and nodded enthusiastically, as if they'd just uncovered a massive conspiracy. "Yeah! Stubborn stain, that one. They should really get, like, super heavy-duty cleaners for this place. I heard that Principal Ozpin drinks a lot of coffee."

Velvet nodded, clutching her own hands nervously. "Y-yeah. Or maybe he just… needs a travel mug?" The conversation hovered in the air, awkward and clumsy, like a baby Grimm learning to walk.

Ruby seized the opportunity to cut to the chase. "Um, so, do you know why he wanted to see us?" She half-hoped Velvet had insider knowledge, a secret code or something.

Velvet just shrugged, her face a mixture of confusion and slight panic. "No idea… I just got called in. They didn't say why. But, um, if it's about… yesterday, I swear I had no idea that bucket was rigged. I thought it was just water."

They shared a laugh, trying to shake off the tension, but both jumped a little as the door swung open. Glynda Goodwitch stepped out, clipboard in hand and her gaze steely as ever.

"Principal Ozpin will see you now," she said, her voice crisp as freshly printed exam papers. They both exchanged a look of dread before stepping inside.

There was Ozpin, perched at his desk with his usual mug of coffee, looking entirely too calm given the chaos that had been swirling around him lately. He eyed them both and, with a faint smile, gestured for Glynda to leave them alone.

She frowned, clearly not thrilled by the idea. "Principal, I'd prefer to stay—"

He cut her off with a raised hand. "Glynda, please. I'd like to speak with them in private."

Reluctantly, she left, casting them a final look that said, Behave yourselves, or else.

As the door clicked shut, Ozpin leaned forward, his grey eyes piercing yet warm. "Please, sit," he offered, and they took their seats across from him.

After a long, assessing silence, he finally asked, "So… tell me, what are your thoughts on Jaune Arc?"

Ruby blinked, staring at Ozpin like he'd just told her he had wings and could breathe fire. "Wait, wait—what do I think of Jaune Arc? Uh… he seems nice?" she stammered, her cheeks turning slightly pink. "You know, aside from that tiny thing where he kinda… sorta… maybe helped Roman Torchwick escape. But I mean, come on! That was probably just a big, wacky misunderstanding, right?"

Velvet, who was sitting beside Ruby, looked down at her feet and mumbled, "I've only, uh… seen him once… but he looked… kind of heroic?" Her face turned as red as a tomato as she whispered, "And maybe… a bit handsome?" Her voice was barely audible at that point, and she shrank back, hoping no one had heard her.

Ruby almost snorted, but managed to keep her cool, though she was absolutely biting her lip to stop herself from laughing. Meanwhile, Ozpin merely nodded, his expression all serious and thoughtful. "Well," he began slowly, "during the so-called 'assassination attempt,' Jaune was actually helping me. He used his aura to assist, not attack. I had a bit of a panic attack, and he… well, he was just trying to calm me down."

Ruby's eyes sparkled as she practically bounced with excitement, leaning forward. "See? I knew he wasn't some villain! Like, remember that day at the bakery?" she exclaimed, her voice loud enough to practically echo. "When the metal rods started falling, he jumped right in and saved people! And during Initiation, he saved both Weiss and me!"

Ozpin's face grew serious, as if he was about to share some massive secret. "Odd indeed," he murmured, "how a young boy like Jaune could possess a Semblance so… unusual. This isn't some simple assault semblance. No, Jaune has powers beyond comprehension—fire-breathing, wood-crafting, healing. He decimated entire hordes of Grimm in Vacuo's Eastern Desert. He's fast enough to break the sound barrier, strong enough to crush Atlas's finest handcuffs, and resilient enough to survive attacks that would… obliterate most of us."

Ruby tilted her head, trying to wrap her mind around all this. "Wait… so… if he's so noble and all, then why did he… uh… kill Adam Taurus?"

Ozpin shrugged, giving her a sidelong glance. "Possibly self-defense. Or perhaps… it's something we'll never quite understand."

Ruby looked practically ready to jump up and cheer, looking like a fan who'd just spotted her idol on the street. "So… we're saying Jaune's innocent?" Her eyes sparkled, already planning Jaune's heroic redemption story in her head.

Velvet, clutching her scroll, looked like she was on the verge of fainting from sheer excitement. After all, her online persona, BGQQ (short for Bunny Girl Quack Quack), was the biggest Jaune Arc fan this side of Remnant. In her underground fan club, she was practically a legend. "Arcists"—the hardcore Jaune supporters—were even thinking of electing her as their fan club president. Velvet's heart was practically doing cartwheels. This was like a dream come true.

Then Ozpin cleared his throat, bringing both girls back down to reality. "Regardless of what he's done, I have a message for Jaune. One that I can't risk sending through… normal means." He glanced at the two of them, his face growing serious. "That's where you two come in."

Velvet's eyes widened in surprise, her hand clutching her scroll even tighter. "Wait… you want us to deliver it?"

Ozpin nodded. "Indeed. This isn't a task I can just assign to anyone. My usual messenger—a certain… friend of mine—has a rather fierce grudge against Jaune."

Ruby's face scrunched up. "Uncle Qrow?" She sighed, rubbing her forehead. "He's been muttering about 'teaching Jaune a lesson' ever since that incident with Yang. Apparently, she, uh… filed a complaint about him." Ruby winced, already hearing Yang's ranting and raving about Jaune's "atrocities" in her head. Yang's recovery was going fine, but she was apparently making plans for some very creative revenge.

Ozpin sighed heavily, and just when they thought he'd said everything, he continued, "Actually, there's someone else in the mix. Winter Schnee."

Ruby and Velvet's jaws dropped simultaneously, their mouths hanging open in shock. "Wait… Winter Schnee? And… Jaune? How in Remnant did that happen?" Ruby stammered.

Ozpin's gaze was unreadable, yet there was a hint of amusement in his eyes. "Yes, Miss Schnee herself is heading to Vacuo to meet with Jaune. Her father, Mr. Schnee, has apparently struck a deal with him. In exchange for Jaune not attacking Atlas or setting foot in the kingdom, the SDC has agreed to release Faunus 'workers' from their facilities."

Velvet's blush deepened, but her heart raced with excitement. This was it! A secret mission, a message from Ozpin, and a chance to meet Jaune in person! She was practically vibrating with joy. "I… I get to… meet Jaune," she whispered to herself, practically swooning, saliva falling from the corner of her lips.

Ruby and Ozpin exchanged nervous looks before Ozpin's voice cut through her daydream. He handed her a small metallic box, his expression deadly serious. "Now, listen carefully. This is for Jaune. You two are the only ones I can trust. Glynda… well, let's say she's hiding something." He leaned back in his chair, watching their reactions.

Ruby's eyebrows shot up. "Wait, what? The Deputy Headmistress is hiding something? Like… what?"

Ozpin sighed, shaking his head. "If only I knew. But if I sent anyone else, it would… complicate things."

Ruby took a deep breath, nodding despite her head spinning with all this information. "So… when do we leave?"

Ozpin leaned forward, adjusting his glasses with a glint in his eye. "Tonight. I've arranged for an automated Bullhead—no pilot. It'll take you directly to a location in Vacuo."

Velvet furrowed her brow. "Wait… Vacuo? You mean Vacuo City? Or in the desert?"

Ozpin's lips twitched into a small, mysterious smile. "Not quite. News hasn't broken yet, but Jaune has moved… somewhere new. In the desert."

Ruby and Velvet exchanged bewildered glances, both of them wide-eyed and whispering, "Where… exactly?"

Ozpin's smile deepened, his voice filled with a strange kind of pride and secrecy. "A small settlement… a little place he likes to call—"

—X~X—

Two days earlier…

Jaune was sprawled awkwardly against a seat near the back of a rumbling train. His shoulders slumped, eyes half-closed from exhaustion. At least he was getting some rest, though, until a kind Faunus leaned over and handed him a flask of water. "Here, you look like you're about to pass out."

"Oh, thank you!" Jaune's face lit up as he took the flask, chugging the water with way too much enthusiasm. It was like he hadn't tasted water in ages, which, come to think of it, was about right.

Then, he caught sight of Justin and the humorless security officer who was assigned to… keep an eye on him, apparently. Meanwhile, Justin just stared with narrowed eyes, a look halfway between suspicion and 'you've-got-to-be-kidding-me.'

Jaune, noticing the glare, sighed. "Could you, like… stop glaring at me?"

"Just making sure you don't do anything funny."

Jaune sighed. "Please. I'm way too tired to crack a joke." He paused. "But nice try, I guess."

Justin rolled his eyes, like he'd just caught a kid trying to sell him a useless trinket. "And nice try to you, Arc."

Jaune raised an eyebrow. He was tired of dealing with the constantly suspicious, snarky types. Did they have some kind of factory in Atlas that produced them? He thought he'd escaped all this 'I-don't-trust-you' nonsense, but nooo.

Then Justin's scroll buzzed. The officer picked it up, answered with a series of serious nods, and then, quite begrudgingly, handed it over to Jaune. "Here. It's for you."

Jaune took the scroll and held it up, confused. "Uh, hello?"

The voice on the other end sounded clipped and cold. "Mr. Arc?"

"Mr. Sick," Jaune replied with a straight face.

A sigh, sharp and exasperated, filtered through the other end. "It's Schnee. But let's move on. I must say, Mr. Arc, your recent… performances have shocked us all."

Jaune's face twisted in confusion. "Thanks, I… guess?"

"Yes, truly," Schnee continued, his tone dripping with restrained frustration. "Your unmatched battle prowess has demonstrated just how outclassed we all are. Frankly, it's a bit humiliating."

Jaune's mouth twitched, unimpressed. "Right. Anyway…"

"Thus," Schnee continued, "putting you behind bars in a cell that, as we now know, couldn't hold you anyway, would be a complete waste of time and resources."

"Okay," Jaune replied slowly. "So… what're you saying?"

"You want freedom for Faunus workers, correct?" Schnee's voice sounded strained, as if he were trying to talk a kid out of raiding the cookie jar.

Jaune nodded, already losing patience. "Yeah? So?"

"I'm prepared to offer you that freedom without jailing you."

"Oh, cool!" Jaune exclaimed, already halfway through waving goodbye. "Thanks! Alright, well—"

"Wait!" Schnee practically barked.

Jaune raised an eyebrow. "What? Can you just say whatever it is in, like, twenty words or less?"

Schnee audibly cleared his throat, sounding supremely unamused. "Fine. We will free the Faunus workers on the condition you never attack Atlas, interfere with the SDC, or disrupt our business and to assist us in need."

Jaune smirked. "The first two sound good. But I'm not fighting anyone. I want peace, not a permanent reservation in the battlefield hotel."

Schnee hesitated, probably realizing this wasn't going exactly according to plan. "Understandable," he finally said, gritting his teeth. "But as a result, you will not be given any shelter or further assistance. The freed Faunus will be dropped off by the train station you're currently on."

Jaune blinked. "Uh, dude, this is the middle of the desert. There's, like, a serious shortage of… well, everything out here."

"Not my concern, Mr. Arc. You rejected part of the agreement, so that's the most we're willing to offer."

Jaune rubbed his forehead, trying to hold back the oncoming headache. He glanced around at the Faunus on the train, many of whom looked worn, hungry, some barely able to stand.

"Fine," he muttered, more to himself than anyone. "I'll figure it out myself."

"Very well," Schnee replied, a sliver of satisfaction creeping back into his tone. "Then we have an agreement. My daughter, Winter Schnee, will meet you with the necessary documents."

Jaune shuddered. "Winter? You mean the lady who tried to flirt with me? Ugh, alright, fine."

"Goodbye, Mr. Arc," Schnee intoned with a cold finality. "We shall meet face to face someday."

"Yeah, yeah, Mr. Sick," Jaune mumbled as Schnee sighed and abruptly ended the call.

When Jaune lowered the scroll, he looked out at the train filled with Faunus refugees, many of them looking at him with hopeful but weary eyes. It dawned on him that these people were starving, thirsty, sick, and absolutely in need of every single thing that the desert had precisely zero of: shelter, food, water, medicine.

He could almost feel the weight of their hopes and needs pressing down on him. Well, he thought grimly, time to find out what this Semblance can really do.

The Faunus were dropped smack-dab in the middle of the desert with absolutely nothing. No shade, no water, just miles and miles of hot, dry sand and one rather bewildered Jaune Arc. The moment their boots hit the sand, though, they all seemed to collectively lose their minds.

"Sand angels!" one Faunus yelled, grinning ear to ear as he flopped down, only to discover that sand, unlike snow, was incredibly painful to have in your eyes. Another ran around, scooping up sand and throwing it in the air, sending plumes of gritty dust right into the faces of his fellow Faunus. "Look! Desert fireworks!" he shouted, earning a round of coughing and a few dirty looks.

For a while, it looked like the whole group was going to gleefully hurl sand at each other until they collapsed from heat exhaustion. That is until a voice—slow, gravelly, and with a touch of ancient, tortoise-like wisdom—cut through the noise.

"Ahem. Folks, hold on a sec," the voice rumbled.

Everyone turned. It was the oldest Faunus among them, a tortoise with wrinkles deep enough to hide coins in and a shell that seemed to glint with wisdom—or maybe just a bit of dust. He raised a hand in a slow, authoritative gesture. "Now, I reckon y'all might've forgotten we don't have a lick of food, a drop of water, or a single spot of shelter." He squinted at the sun. "And I'm no genius, but I believe that spells disaster."

The cheering crowd went quiet. Someone blinkeld, looking like he'd just been slapped with reality. "Wait… no food?"

A jittery, wide-eyed Faunus immediately began pacing. "Oh no, no, no… no food? No water? Oh sweet Oum, we're dead! We're gonna dry up like—like raisins! We'll be jerky! Faunus jerky!"

The tortoise Faunus held up his hands, his voice carrying an eerie calm. "Hold your horses, panicking won't get us anywhere." He paused for dramatic effect, eyes gleaming as he pointed towards Jaune, who had been slowly inching away from the scene. "We don't need food, or water, or shelter, my friends. We have something much, much better…"

The Faunus stared at him, completely enraptured.

"We have… the Apostle of God himself."

All eyes snapped to Jaune, who froze like a deer in headlights, realizing all too late that every single Faunus had now fixed their attention on him. His face went pale as they swarmed, moving towards him like he was the first rainstorm in a hundred-year drought. "Wait?! You want to eat me?!"

"Oh, Mr. Arc, you're our savior!"

"Marry me, please!" squealed one overly enthusiastic Faunus, batting her eyelashes.

"Forget that, I wanna have his babies!" another one shouted, grinning like she'd won the lottery.

"Hey, back off, I called dibs on mothering his kids!" cried another.

One Faunus, sounding cheekily impressed, piped up, "Look, with that kind of stamina, he can handle all of you! Form an orderly queue!"

Jaune was bright red, the color of a ripe tomato. He tried to fend them off, his voice squeaking in his own defense. "Uh, guys, let's just, um, maybe… calm down?"

Fortunately, the old tortoise Faunus spoke up once again, his voice as calming as a nap in the shade. "Alright, alright, back up, everyone! Give the poor guy some space. We'll discuss his… harem plans later."

Jaune shot him a grateful look, gulping. "Thank you. Really." He sighed, collecting his thoughts. "So… where was I?"

"Oogway, sir," the old tortoise said, giving him a solemn nod.

Jaune squinted. "Wait… did you just say your name is Oogway?"

"Yes, sir. Oogway. At your service."

Jaune looked around, half expecting a fat panda to pop up with some kind of kung fu move. "Do you, uh… happen to know any talking rabbits? Or fat pandas?"

Oogway nodded sagely. "Why, yes, sir, I do."

Jaune rubbed his temples, muttering, "I'm officially losing my mind." But he straightened up, looking over the crowd. "Okay, listen up. Here's the situation. We're in the middle of a desert, right? There's no shade, which means this place is a giant oven and, unfortunately for us, we're the cookies."

"Cookies? But… I didn't sign up to be dessert," someone muttered nervously.

Jaune raised a hand to silence them. "No one's turning into a cookie today, alright? I've got this." He took a deep breath. "First things first—shelter."

"Uh… how are we gonna do that?" a voice squeaked from the back.

Jaune cracked his knuckles, summoning every bit of confidence he could muster. "Stand back." He leaped into the air, a good hundred meters up, and called out, "Wood Release: Humble Creation!"

The ground shook, and suddenly, a few dozen wooden huts sprang from the desert sands as if they'd been hiding there all along. Each one was sturdy, with enough room to squeeze in the crowd, offering blessed shade and just enough comfort.

The Faunus cheered, and in no time, they were practically tackling each other to claim a hut. "Look, mine's got a breeze!" "Yeah, well, mine's got a view of… more sand, but still!"

Jaune dusted his hands off, feeling oddly accomplished as he took in the little village he'd just made. But then he frowned, scanning the desert. "Alright… shelter's done. Next up, water."

He squinted into the distance, spotting a wide, dry valley. A perfect place for a pond… if he could make one. But he needed to dig deep enough to get to the water table.

Then, an idea popped into his head. He grinned, summoning a series of massive wooden dragons. The serpentine creatures slithered across the sand, gnashing their wooden jaws and burrowing into the earth, throwing up waves of sand as they dug a massive pit.

The crowd watched, mouths open, but Oogway, ever the loyal helper, shuffled over with a tiny handful of sand.

Jaune shook his head, laughing. "Sir, uh, maybe… you don't really need to do that?"

But Oogway held his ground, determined. "Nonsense. I like it."

Seeing Oogway helping, the others felt inspired and started pitching in, picking up handfuls of sand and tossing them on top of the piles the dragons were creating. Jaune fought back laughter, watching this eager little band of helpers.

For the first time in a long while, he cracked a genuine smile. "You know," he muttered to himself, "Julius Arc would've been proud." At least that's what he said in 'Make-Out Tactics'.

After what felt like the longest hour of Jaune's life, the Faunus and he had finally managed to dig a pit that could've held an Olympic-sized swimming pool—or swallowed a small city. Sweat trickled down their faces, sand was everywhere, and they stared at the enormous hole they'd dug like it was some kind of legendary achievement. Jaune took a step back, dusted off his hands, and plastered on a proud smile. But just as he was about to bask in the moment…

"So… uh, where's the water, Mr. Apostle of God?" someone piped up, wide-eyed, hope sparkling in his gaze.

Jaune froze. Ah. The water. The crucial element they needed. The one thing he had absolutely zero idea how to summon. He cleared his throat, trying to look wise and aloof as he scrambled for an answer. "Water," he began, in the tone of someone who had just discovered the meaning of life, "requires… deep concentration and inner peace. Too many people… would disrupt the flow of… peace. Yes, the water essence demands solitude."

The Faunus crowd blinked at him in confusion, each one looking at the other as if to say, "Did he… say something meaningful?" There was a beat of silence.

"Is he… is he asking us to leave?" one of them whispered, scratching his head.

Oogway, ever the helpful tortoise, took a step forward and declared, "Yes! The great Apostle is indeed requesting privacy. He needs… absolute silence and distance from all of you."

"Ohhh," the crowd murmured in unison, each reacting in their own way. Some of the younger men groaned in disappointment, clearly hoping for a miracle they could see up close. The women sighed wistfully, a few whispering, "Maybe he'll end up swimming… shirtless…"

And with that hopeful thought, the crowd dispersed, reluctantly giving him what they thought was the "privacy" he needed.

All except Oogway, who stayed right beside Jaune with an eager grin, arms crossed in steadfast determination.

Jaune sighed. "You too, Oogway. I, uh… need complete and undisturbed peace for this."

"Oh, but I shall stay, sir," Oogway said, eyes twinkling with excitement. "I must witness the true power of the Apostle in action! You know, up close."

Jaune groaned internally. This was going to be a long day.

So, he clambered up to a little hill overlooking the pit, plopping himself down cross-legged in the sand with the look of someone preparing to achieve enlightenment—or a serious headache. "Okay, water…" he muttered, pressing his fingers to his temples like it'd help somehow. "Think… liquid. H2O. Hydrogen dioxide. Life itself…"

But the more he thought about water, the more his mind wandered… into some questionable territory. "Water means liquid… liquid like… pee…" He wrinkled his nose as a faint, unmistakable odor hit his nose. Oh, no. No, it couldn't be…

He opened one eye. "Who's peeing here?"

Oogway's head popped out from behind a nearby rock, his expression the picture of innocence. "Oh, just your humble servant, sir," he said, as if his "humble service" involved irrigating the entire desert.

Jaune sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Could you… please do your business somewhere else, Oogway?"

"Right away, sir!" Oogway chirped cheerfully, waddling off as if he were off to do a highly important task elsewhere.

Jaune resumed his "meditation," focusing with all his might, but he was getting nowhere. Thirty minutes passed, then forty-five. He was practically chanting "water, water, water" under his breath when, suddenly, the sky rumbled ominously. A deafening crack of thunder exploded right above the pit, as if the universe had decided to intervene.

Jaune jumped so hard he almost tumbled off the hill. His eyes shot up just in time to see the sky darken dramatically. Ominous clouds rolled in with such ferocity they seemed to smother the sun. He stared, dumbfounded, mouth half-open.

And then it started.

Plip.

Plop.

Plip-plop-plop.

A few hesitant drops of rain fell, dappling the sand. And then, with no warning at all, the sky opened up like it had a personal vendetta against the desert. A torrential downpour exploded over the pit, heavy raindrops splashing against the sand so hard it sent little clouds of dust puffing up.

"Holy—!" Jaune could only stare in utter disbelief.

Somewhere down below, Oogway raised his arms to the sky and bellowed, "Yes! A holy sign! Our leader's intense concentration has summoned the heavens! His prayers have been answered!"

The Faunus, upon hearing Oogway's enthusiastic proclamation, poured out of their huts, whooping with joy. They ran toward the pit like it was the most magical thing they'd ever seen, cheering and shouting Jaune's name, dancing in the rain as if he'd singlehandedly summoned the world's first desert monsoon. Their awe-struck expressions and reverent shouts made Jaune feel like he'd just performed an actual miracle—which, technically, he sort of had. Even if it was mostly by accident.

He shook his head, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth as he walked over to the now half-filled pit, water collecting rapidly within it. "Well," he muttered, "at least it's working." He summoned a bit of wood to cover the bottom, hoping it'd help the water stick around in the scorching heat of the desert.

He took one last look at the jubilant crowd as they splashed in the rain, frantically filling makeshift containers with water, laughing and shoving each other as if they were kids at a carnival. Somehow, his unintended "miracle" had cemented his reputation as some desert sage.

Jaune sighed, shaking his head as he watched them, trying not to laugh. If luck kept up like this, his status as "The Apostle of God" would be utterly unshakable by sundown.

—X~X—

As the desert night settled in, the air turned bitingly cold, cutting through the heat of the day like a blade. It was ironic—no snow, just a relentless chill that had the Faunus shivering and huddling together. Jaune, thankfully, managed to conjure up enough fire to keep everyone warm. Flames crackled and cast warm, dancing shadows, and he tried not to think too much about the empty feeling in his stomach that every Faunus shared. Sure, they were all toasty, but none of them had eaten a real meal in days. The night passed comfortably, as long as you ignored the hunger gnawing at everyone.

Sometime around midnight, Jaune found himself sitting atop a hut, staring at the distant glimmer of stars. He squinted up at the sky, thoughts swirling, a wild idea growing as he weighed his options. "I could leave right now," he muttered to himself. He could shapeshift, morph into anyone he wanted. He could become some random middle-aged guy and just… vanish. What were the odds anyone would find him? A million to one, right?

He glanced down, watching the Faunus people sleeping soundly, bundled up in their makeshift beds, peaceful and trusting. They'd put their faith in him, a guy who barely knew how to swing a sword straight. Not exactly messiah material. But without him… they'd have no one. They'd die out here, waiting on him to save them. "Great job, Jaune. Out of all the problems to have, you end up with a bunch of people who can't survive without you."

Then, another issue crept into his mind: his bladder. He really, really needed to pee. And fast. He was about to find a secluded spot when a thought struck him like a bolt of lightning. He remembered how, in some freak miracle, his own urine had managed to revive a dead tree. Could that actually work? Could his, well, "natural fertilizer" be a way to feed these people? Maybe he didn't have to save the world—just their stomachs.

Jaune gulped, feeling a mix of determination and absolute horror at his own idea. "Well, desperate times…"

Steeling himself, Jaune slinked toward the water pond, sneaking glances around as he went. He created a giant wooden bowl out of nothing, filled it with water, and hoisted it up, careful not to spill any. He made his way behind a large, secluded hill, set the bowl down, and took a deep breath. "Alright, Jaune. Time to… water the plants." With a mix of resignation and determination, he unbuckled his belt and got to work.

After a minute of "watering," Jaune sighed with relief, feeling oddly accomplished, though no less embarrassed. But he wasn't done. Crafting a small wooden log and a mug, he took some of the newly "infused" water and poured it over the log with a prayer that something miraculous would happen. At first, nothing. Then, just as he was about to lose hope, the log slipped from his fingers, tumbling to the ground—and immediately began to sprout.

Jaune's eyes widened as tiny shoots sprouted from the bark, branches began twisting and reaching skyward, leaves unfurled, and small, delicate flowers blossomed. The miracle didn't stop there; the flowers soon gave way to plump, glistening fruit. He gaped at it, half in awe and half in sheer horror. "Do… do I even dare to eat this?"

His stomach growled, answering for him. With a grimace, Jaune picked one of the fruits, inspecting it suspiciously before taking a cautious bite. To his surprise, the taste was… incredible. Sweet, juicy, a flavor unlike anything he'd ever tasted. He devoured the rest of it, feeling renewed energy coursing through him.

"This… this could work!" he whispered to himself, eyes lighting up as the wheels began to turn. If he could "grow" more trees, they might have enough food to last! Determined, Jaune set about planting as many trees as he could, fingers crossed that these "miracle" plants would be ready by dawn.

And if anyone asked? He'd just tell them it was his semblance. Not exactly a lie…

By morning, the camp looked like an exotic paradise, the air thick with the scent of fresh fruit and cheerful voices. The Faunus couldn't believe their eyes. The dry desert had turned into an orchard oasis, and Jaune was just standing there, giving his best attempt at looking humble.

"Apostle," one brave faunus ventured, eyes wide with wonder, "Did you… did you really do this?"

Jaune, already a bit too comfortable in his new role, gave a sage nod. "Yep. Just a little semblance magic," he said, not lying, but definitely bending reality. The villagers cheered, rushing to pluck the colorful fruit, tearing into them like kids on Christmas morning. It wasn't long before the whole camp was feasting, swapping bites of the juicy fruit and chattering with joy. They looked like a scene from a commercial selling happiness. He is never telling anybody how he had done this…

As noon rolled around, a dark, churning mass of clouds loomed over the horizon. They looked like they'd been having a really bad day and were here to share the misery. The air crackled with tension, and the temperature dropped sharply, which was unsettling in the middle of a desert.

Suddenly, the wind picked up, furious and relentless, ripping through the camp like it had been waiting all day to let loose. Dust spiraled into the air, obscuring everything and everyone, while faunus villagers clung to their baskets of fruit like they were clutching onto dear life.

Oogway, the usually calm, collected elder, appeared beside Jaune, his face pale and his normally unshakeable confidence looking a tad… well, shaken. "Uh… sir," he stammered, clearly trying to hold it together, "is this… part of the miracle?"

Jaune squinted up at the ominous sky, mouth tightening. "Nope," he replied, voice steady but with an unmistakable hint of panic. "Not part of the plan."

The faunus were in full-blown panic now, glancing nervously between the flimsy huts and the unforgiving sky. The sand had whipped into a frenzy, filling the air with a blinding haze. Even the few trees Jaune had "conjured" earlier were bending under the pressure, their branches whipping around like they were trying to signal, "Yeah, we're not built for this!"

A young faunus nearby whimpered, "Will… will the huts hold?" His voice was a high-pitched squeak of pure terror.

An older faunus woman clutched her kid, muttering under her breath, "But the apostl himself did the construction…" Her gaze went skyward, and for a moment, Jaune thought he saw her shake a fist at the heavens.

Jaune looked around, feeling a very real, very urgent kind of terror. The huts, the trees—none of it would be enough to withstand this hurricane of a storm. He needed a solution, and he needed it fast.

"If only we had more trees to hide under!" an elderly faunus wailed, throwing his hands up in a dramatic, hopeless gesture. His words hit Jaune like a truck.

'Allow me, boy.'

The voice echoed in his mind—a calm, ancient voice, full of authority and perhaps a hint of annoyance at Jaune's hesitation. Well, Jaune thought, no time like the present to listen to the wise old voice in my head, right?

Bracing himself, he leapt into the air with all the elegance he could muster. As he hung in the sky for a brief, epic second, the faunus watched in awe and bewilderment. He clasped his hands together, heart pounding, hoping whatever he was about to do wouldn't result in him dropping to his doom.

"Wood Style: Deep Forest Emergence!" he shouted, voice carrying over the roaring wind.

The earth rumbled beneath him. Then, out of nowhere, trees shot up from the ground, exploding from the sand like they'd been fired from a giant botanical cannon. But these weren't just any trees—these were colossal, massive trunks that soared hundreds of meters into the sky, so thick and sturdy that it looked like they'd been there for centuries, not seconds. Branches spread wide like sheltering arms, creating a dense canopy that covered the entire village and more.

The faunus just… stared. Their mouths hung open, eyes bugging out of their heads as they gawked at the forest that had quite literally sprouted from the desert. A mother hugged her child tightly, whispering about miracles and angels in the same breath. An old faunus clasped his hands together, whispering fervent blessings to Jaune like he was some kind of saint.

"It's… it's a miracle," someone choked out.

The storm continued to rage outside, but within the forest, it was calm. The towering trees acted like natural barricades, absorbing the winds' fury and leaving only a gentle breeze to filter through. The faunus were safe, shielded by this miraculous green fortress that stood tall and unyielding against nature's wrath.

Some of them were still frozen in shock, while others began to weep openly with relief. A few even dropped to their knees, heads bowed, overcome with gratitude and reverence.

Oogway walked over to Jaune, looking at him with an awe that bordered on worship. "I always knew you had something special in you, but this… this is beyond anything I imagined." His voice was filled with a respect that made Jaune feel both proud and a little guilty, considering the real nature of his miracle.

Jaune offered a small, sheepish smile, still internally wondering how on earth he'd managed to create an entire forest. But as he looked around at the faunus villagers, safe and sound, he couldn't help but feel a surge of pride.

The forest was beyond anything anyone could imagine in the middle of a barren desert. Towering to dizzying heights, these trees reached hundreds of meters, their trunks wide and mighty like ancient pillars carved by nature's own hand. The branches stretched out in a vast, thick canopy that blanketed the village below, creating a lush green oasis against the harsh desert backdrop. Sunlight filtered through in soft beams, dappling the ground and casting a golden glow over the villagers, who couldn't help but stare, utterly captivated.

The leaves shimmered like emerald jewels, lush and full, while the air around was thick with the earthy, invigorating scent of nature—a miracle in the middle of nowhere. Birds, butterflies, and other wildlife had seemingly appeared out of nowhere, fluttering and chirping among the branches, adding a gentle hum of life to the air. This forest wasn't just a shelter—it was a sanctuary, a world of natural beauty and wonder. The villagers felt as though they'd stepped into a paradise crafted just for them, leaving them speechless with gratitude and awe.

It was majestic, protective, and impossibly beautiful, transforming their desert haven into something magical, where even the harshest storm couldn't reach them.

Jaune stood back, still taken aback by the towering forest around him, a living, breathing fortress in the middle of a desert. The villagers were celebrating, dancing, and talking among themselves with wild energy. That's when Oogway, ever the sage, called everyone to order, clearing his throat dramatically.

"We need a name for this… uh… Heaven," he announced, arms spread wide.

Immediately, the suggestions poured in, each more ridiculous than the last.

"The Holy Woods!" one villager shouted with a passionate gleam.

"Oh, how about The Jaungle?" another piped up. "It's got Jaune in it, and it's a jungle. Genius, right?"

Someone else threw in, "I vote for Oasis of Miracles!" which drew a few polite nods but mostly snickers.

"Nature's Big Green… uh, Thing?" a very young child yelled, clearly eager to participate.

Jaune chuckled, trying to keep a straight face as the names got more absurd. He could see Oogway looking pained as he listened to each bizarre suggestion with forced patience. Finally, someone called out, "Let the Apostle decide!"

Suddenly all eyes turned to Jaune, their anticipation almost more intense than it had been for the forest itself. He cleared his throat, opening his mouth to speak—and just as he was about to utter something profound, a rogue leaf swooped out of nowhere, right into his open mouth. He gagged, flailing as he spat it out, wiping his mouth with a grimace.

"Gross!" he muttered, holding the now very soggy leaf in his hand, staring at it. But then… he froze, gazing at the leaf where his saliva glistened like a hidden, mystical liquid.

"The Village… Hidden in the Leaves," he whispered, eyes wide. It just felt… right.

A hush fell over the villagers, who stared at him with awe and joy, as if he'd just spoken an ancient prophecy.

"Ladies and gentlemen! I give you— the Village Hidden in the Leaves!"

And from that moment, the Village Hidden in the Leaves was born, forever marking their sanctuary in the desert with a name as unexpected as the forest itself.

It was the moment when a saliva soaked leaf had created a name that would be remembered forever in the epic story of the Will Of Fire.

—X~X—

In a dark, echoing chamber somewhere within Salem's fortress, the room was buzzing with tension and something that might have been dread. Cinder stood in front of Salem's throne, her usual confident sneer faltering as she recounted the tale of Jaune Arc.

"...and then, with a single strike, he obliterated the last of your Grimm army," Cinder finished, her voice tight, expecting Salem to fly into a rage. She prepared for the usual barrage of questions, criticisms, and maybe even threats.

But Salem didn't scream. She didn't slam her fists or call her minions incompetent. She just sat back, fingers tapping thoughtfully. "I suspected he'd be… troublesome," she murmured, eyes narrowing. "This Jaune Arc, he may be destined to end me. But I won't let that happen." Her voice was icy calm, a dangerous kind of calm, as if she was deciding whether Jaune was worth squashing like a bug or dissecting like a rare specimen.

"Listen, little one, I need you to monitor his every move. Find his weaknesses," Salem said, her voice like steel dipped in poison. "I want to know what he loves, what he fears, what he might… sacrifice."

Meanwhile, in the corner, Triyan was practically vibrating with excitement, entirely misunderstanding the conversation. His grin stretched ear to ear, his mind already spinning up its own delusions.

"Does the Queen… want a little wedding with this Jaune Arc?" he whispered under his breath, eyes gleaming with mischief. "Oh, the Queen and her knight… what a wedding that would be!"

As Salem continued discussing her grim (pun intended) plans, Triyan drifted further into his ridiculous fantasy, imagining a wedding ceremony where Jaune was cluelessly dragged down the aisle by a grinning Salem, who probably planned to say "I do" before, during, and after causing utter chaos. He could see it now—Salem trying to keep a straight face as Jaune stumbled through some kind of vows, likely involving slaying monsters in her honor or some nonsense.

He bit back a laugh as he pictured their wedding night, which in his mind was a clash of comical proportions. Salem trying to look ominous and dangerous while Jaune just blinked, possibly backing away in pure panic. Triyan stifled a snort, whispering to himself, "Oh, she'll have him alright, right down the aisle… if he's not screaming and running first."

In the background, Salem continued with her dark and foreboding plot, completely oblivious to Triyan's entire mental rom-com going on in the shadows.

—X~X—

Author Note:

That was… a swift execution on how Jaune Arc founded the Village.

What do you want next before we spice up things more?

This chapter has nearly 8K words, took the whole week for me to write. Is this size okay? Or do you want smaller ones? Then, you may, occasionally get two chapters per week. What do you want?

Do drop your thoughts in the review section. They inspire me to write faster, better and larger.

Till next time.

~Phoenix.