The Grimm Lands Chapter 27

The Place I Long For

Weiss

He charged unflinchingly and bravely away from her and swung his blade down on the first Grimm, cleaving it in two.

He was already so far away.

It wasn't fair.

Here they were, trapped in a waking nightmare, surrounded and outnumbered. Even still, he pushed away his fear. She knew he was terrified. She had seen it. Yet, he still pushed himself headfirst into danger to protect her.

Alone and surrounded. The worst possible case scenario. There was no one to call for help. No support and no hope for survival. She should have died in that crash, and she should have died in that cave. But at every turn, he still tried to protect her.

He was willing to fight that thing for her—that mass of darkness, that emotionless husk of evil lurking in the shadows.

That thing was no Grimm. She was certain of that now. No matter how intelligent and strong they became with age, there had never been a Grimm capable enough of speaking its own mind. To give voice to all of the malicious thoughts it held for everything with a soul. That was a simple fact of reality. No Grimm was capable of that. So then, this thing… She could feel her skin crawl, her fear overtaking her as she tried to size up the Monster. All thoughts of fighting, of winning, were lost to her. One word from its cold, emotionless voice drove the breath from her lungs. One wave of its hands left her unable even to move.

But he had still charged straight ahead for her. He was fighting it for her.

She wasn't a child. She wasn't the same frightened girl who could only look on with teary eyes as the people around her shielded her away from the cruelty and harshness of the world. She wasn't some princess who needed to be saved.

She had changed. Hadn't she?

Myrtenaster trembled in her hand. The rapier had been damaged during the fall. The hilt, now crumpled and disfigured, was almost useless. The Dust chambers were almost entirely inoperable. She had access to only half a round of Fire Dust and the last remnants of her Ice Dust. Her Gravity Dust was gone, used up in her attempt to stop the Minotaur.

With only around half of her Aura left, what could she do? What was the best choice here? Should she fight?

She had to get help and contact the school. If she could do that, there was a chance they could escape.

But that meant leaving him. Leaving him to fight, to die.

She took a single step forward.

"Get going!" He yelled. He ducked under the swing of a large Ursa, slicing apart its front leg and smashing the front end of his shield into its chest.

"I can't…" Weiss protested—another step.

"Hurry!" He cried. A Grimm charged from behind her. She rolled to the side despite the heaviness of her tired body. She slashed apart the Beowulf.

"You'll die…" She had changed. She was stronger.

"Hurry up and get going!" He roared.

Weiss took every bubbling emotion, retort, and complaint and fled. With every heavy step, her heart was breaking.

Jaune

The Grimm tried to follow her. The horde shifted its focus to pursue as she retreated. Jaune launched himself into the center of the mass of Grimm. Slashing and tearing to divert their attention. He wouldn't allow them a moment to reconvene. He wouldn't offer them a chance to reorganize. He allowed his anger, desperation, and fear to waft off his body, merging into a scent he knew they couldn't ignore. He would become the bait.

It wasn't enough. There were simply too many. A few stragglers near the edge of the woods took off after Weiss. He tried to follow and put himself between the beasts of darkness and his wounded teammate. But he was too slow. More Grimm intercepted him, converging around his person with the clear intent to overwhelm through sheer relentless aggression alone. Their numbers were seemingly endless.

That thing was still there. That golden-eyed bastard was still standing there, observing.

As long as Jaune could at least keep its attention, he was sure Weiss had a chance to escape. He just had to buy enough time.

More Grimm began to divert themselves away from him.

He lashed out in desperate fury, cutting and tearing into the monsters closest to him, but it wasn't enough. More began to trail after Weiss.

"Enough," the thing said. Its icy words alone stopped Jaune in his tracks. "A wounded hare poses no threat or challenge. Leave it, lest we end this hunt early."

The Grimm pulled back, instead refocusing their attempts on him.

What did that mean? What did it mean by hunt? Jaune's mind worked through the phrasing, trying to figure out what the situation meant.

The ground trembled beneath his feet, bursting outward in a spray of dust and debris. A giant serpent's head coiled upwards from the crater, slithering forward. Its body was massive, at least the length of an airship.

Taijitu. A serpentine Grimm with incredible speed and power. Little armor meant its defense wasn't as strong as other types of Grimm, but the creature's overwhelming size and strength more than made up for any of its shortcomings. They operated as lone hunters, at most only intermingling with their kind and only one or two of them at most. Did that thing also have command over a Grimm of this caliber?

Jaune rolled to the side as the Taijitu smashed forward. Its rounded, skull-armored head bounced off the ground as it swiped towards him with its tail.

He leaped, swiping his blade outward to strike at a Jackalope that tried to ambush him from the side while he was distracted. His blade sliced through the Jackalope's leg, leaving it thrashing on the ground in agony before the large tail of the Taihjitu smashed down on top of it, ending its life in a mere moment.

Jaune struggled for breath. He was almost amazed at how clear his mind was despite the circumstances. He was cold, tired, and wounded, but despite all those limitations, he felt great. His mind could see them all. His body moved so precisely that he could almost react to the Grimm before they even moved. His body, battered from years of hard-earned experience, knew just where to strike, just where to move to cut them down. The Taijitu coiled around him, its enormous frame encircling him like a net, trying to entrap him in its embrace before finishing the job.

Its massive head lashed downward at him once more, and Jaune sidestepped, digging his boots into the ground, and swiped upwards. He cut into the side of its unarmored jaw and sliced across the side of its head. The monster roared in agony, whipping its head upwards into the sky and letting loose a piercing wail as it shook in pain. Enraged, the Grimm tried once more to crush him. Its gleaming fangs glistened in the moonlight as it came for his life.

Jaune concentrated his Aura. Pushing all his strength into his arms, as the monster came for him, he smashed his shield into the edge of Grimm's head, deflecting the blow. He sidestepped once more and, pulling his shotgun from its holster, shoved the barrel into the Grimm's exposed eye. The Grimm wailed again, but before it could pull back, Jauen fired. A Fire Dust round exploded, erupting the creature's head in flames. Jaune fired again and again. There was no mercy. There was no hesitation.

Jaune was already leaping over the side of the Grimm's massive body as it shook in the final embrace of death. His mind was already aimed at the next target.

Jaune sidestepped the charge of a Boarbutsuk. The cawing of the youngling Nevermores striking down at him suddenly drew his attention upward. A single round pierced the chest of one. Before it even had time to fall, Jaune was already sprinting forward. He rushed to the nearest Grimm, a Jingu. A hybrid form offshoot of the Beringal. A more apelike creature with spiked bonelike protrusions along its spine and joints. It let loose a confused grunt as Jaune vaulted off its chest, his boot smashing into its face plate with enough force to crack it.

Jaune kicked himself into the air. His blade sliced into the wounded Nevermore, cutting through its chest. In the same stroke, he cleaved apart the second and the third fell to his blade before he came tumbling back down to the ground. His blade plunged into the Boarbutsuk he had avoided earlier, digging into its neck as it quickly vanished in ash.

He was breathing hard. His heart pounded violently in his chest as the air in front of him fogged in the icy chill. How many more? How much was there left to do?

It didn't matter.

Crocea Mors sliced apart the paw of an Ursa. Twisting his body, Jaune felt the slight resistance of the beast's fur as his blade tore open its throat.

He had to buy time.

His shield blocked a swipe from a Beowulf, the impact causing a painful tremble in his arm. Jaune's blade was already cutting apart the Grimm before more pounced on him. He rolled, never standing still, never allowing them a moment to catch unprepared.

They were many—almost endless. But even still, they weren't coordinated. Each attack and strike was individual.

He wouldn't last forever.

Even now, he was already trembling in exhaustion. His Aura was fading faster than he could kill them. A dozen, two dozen, even a hundred more, and he would finally succumb.

That was fine, wasn't it? It was what he had wanted. And he urged Weiss to let him do it.

All he had to do was hold out for as long as he could. Then, when the end finally came, he could say he did his best. That was what a hero would do, right?

'A hero would come back. A hero wouldn't let those he cared about cry for him.'

Now wasn't the time for him to suddenly be selfish. He had already made up his mind damn it.

'You've been selfish this whole time, haven't you?'

What did he want? He wanted to be a hero, right? That was why he was in the miserable forest in the first place. It was why he was fighting, why he kept moving forward.

He remembered. Pyrrha's teary-eyed smile as she forced him into his team's embrace. He remembered that single moment when they accepted him as he was.

'Together'

Jaune charged forward.

He refused to stop. His blade sliced apart anything in front of him as he ran. It was a desperate, final gambit. Towards the tree line, he rushed. A larger-sized Ursa, potentially even a Major, tried to stop. He slid between its legs, cutting out its feet from underneath it. Before it fell, he was already moving forward. He jumped onto the face of a Beowulf. With every ounce of strength, he raised his blade high and struck down at the creature with Golden Eyes.

The monster raised its long, armored arm, palm facing outward. Crocea Mors, the weapon that had passed through his family for generations and had been his constant companion through every dark corner of the world, sparked against the creature's open hand. The tip of the blade dug no deeper than a quarter of an inch into the monster's metallic flesh.

And snapped.

The tip of the blade exploded. Like glass, it cracked and shattered against the monster's palm.

Jaune's eyes widened in shock before the icy glove of death wrapped itself around his neck. With silent, heavy steps, the monster lifted him with absolute strength and rushed forward. Each step tore apart the ground, leaving small craters in its wake. Jaune's back slammed against a tree, the wood bellowing out and erupting under the force as the tree shook and groaned under the pressure.

It felt like ice was digging into his neck, sapping away the warmth of his skin as the monster's long fingers dug into his flesh, tearing apart his Aura and drawing small pools of blood.

Jaune gasped for air. He kicked against the creature. But there was nothing he could do. Each hit simply bounced off its armor. Each pathetic gasp only allowed the hold around his neck to tighten. Like a noose, he was being executed with every dying breath.

Jaune raised Crocea Mors, the ruined blade only half of its former length. He stabbed down on the creature's outstretched arm. The blade danced harmlessly off of the creature. The monster's grip on his neck tightened.

"Tell me, Child of Light. Have you ever felt despair?" Its emotionless, empty voice burned into his soul, bringing back the familiar fear he had buried all those years ago.

Jaune raised August's weapon and pointed it at the creature's head. A single Fire Dist round burst forward, causing an explosion of flames that wrapped around the creature's head. The heat was so intense that Jaune was forced to shut his eyes and grit his teeth under the feral blaze.

The creature made no movement and barely reacted as the flames subsided. The fire licked around its armored head like a halo, its bright Golden Eyes burning straight through the fire, never wavering from its target. The cold hand tightened.

Jaune could feel his Aura cracking, the noose tightening as his vision began to swim. The edges turned dark, and his breaths were nothing more than short gasps.

'Even after all of this. It wasn't enough. Even now…'

He tried to fire off a second shot, but the monster gripped the barrel of his weapon with its other hand and tore it from his grasp. The metal squealed and bent as it was crushed in the monster's grip. Never tearing its gaze away, the creature simply tossed it aside.

Jaune's head felt light. His body was weakening as his desperate struggle slowly lost its strength. He was dying. No, he was already dead. All that was left was to accept it.

'I'm sorry…' he thought. He wasn't sure to whom he said it. There were too many.

There were so many regrets, apologies, and broken promises. A bitter feeling settled in his chest. A repulsive, ugly feeling that sunk in his stomach. He was angry.

Of course, he was.

Not at the Grimm. But himself. He had wanted to be a hero. It was all he had ever wanted. It had led so many to their deaths. It had taken everything from him. But even now, at the final waning moments of his miserable short life, it burned like a kindling—the last dying embers of a dream that refused to go out.

And then it faded. A warmer, more comforting thought pushed through. He wasn't sure where it came from, but it made the pain, fear, and anger suddenly so much more bearable.

'I'm going home…'

Weiss

"Mirror, Mirror

on the wall,

who's the fairest

of them all?"

Weiss had never cared for nursery rhymes or fairy tales. They were fabrications. Stories for small children that made the world seem a little less dangerous. She had never been a small girl. Her whole life, from as far back as she could remember, she had only been allowed to be a Schnee.

Strong, distant, composed, and proper in all things.

That was her role, her destiny. She felt lonely more often than not. She had never had friends or anything like the warmth of a family and the love like in a fairy tale.

She had no ambitions to be a hero. They simply didn't exist. She had no illusions that it would all work out if she tried her best.

She accepted that. She had made her peace.

Not everyone got their happily ever after.

The world could be cruel, dark, and lonely.

That had been fine.

So why did it all suddenly make her so angry?

Why had everyone been clinging to her since she arrived at this stupid school? Why did they show her so much affection and warmth? Why was it that she couldn't just turn around and go back to the way she was before?

Had it been harder when she was alone? Of course, it had. That was without question. But it had been so much simpler. She had accepted that her only role was to be the best possible heiress for the future of her family's legacy. Winter had abandoned them and Whitely deserved better than being forced to carry such a heavy burden. Who else but her could do it? Who else could bear the constant disapproval of their father? Who else could shoulder the drunken negligence of their mother? Who else would try to keep their sham of a family from falling even further apart?

She was Weiss Schnee.

Granddaughter of Nicholas Schnee. The former heiress of the single largest conglomerate on Remnant.

Beacon was meant to be a fresh start, a place for her to find herself and gather her bearings before giving up any shred of happiness in her life for the greater cause.

And now, she wanted nothing more than to give up everything she had spent years working towards for the single chance of protecting what she had found.

'They'll need their big sister.'

Hertz

She had read that fairy tale to Weiss so many times.

The mirror sought out the fairest and purest person in the land—the one who was worthy of its focus, one of pure spirit and beauty.

Hertz had always ended the story by saying Weiss was the one the mirror would pick, a convenient fib to tell an impressionable child. But it was sincere. Hertz had always rooted for her, supported her, and cared for her. Hertz had died because of Weiss' name. That was certain. But even still, Hertz was still rooting for Weiss even now.

That was a fact.

Weiss wouldn't dishonor that. Never again. She had failed to protect her family. She would not fail to protect her friends.

The Beowulf slumped over in death, its body fading into nothing as Weiss finally breathed a sigh of relief.

The Grimm that had followed her had been few. The idiot's plan had seemingly worked. His last-ditch effort to create an opening for her had succeeded. Her Scroll chirped in her hand; the tracking signal was still well and alive.

She simply had to follow it. If she were quick, it would all work out. It was a pipe dream that anything had survived the crash, but it had been better than waiting for someone to rescue them.

She could survive. She could make it back to the place she wanted to be. It would all be alright. She just had to keep moving forward.

So why? Why was she running back?

She wasn't a hero. She had never wanted to be one. So why wasn't she throwing away his sacrifice? Why was she rushing back to certain death? She was a Schnee. Her life inherently held more weight than almost anyone's. Even disinherited, even abandoned, the weight of her name alone was still worth millions.

A Schnee would never make such a stupid decision.

So rather than as a Schnee, she decided, Weiss was going back to save her big, stupid friend.

They were both going back. Back to the place he told her they belonged.

The Dust chamber on Myrtenaster clicked and slotted into place. The Glyphs were already forming under her feet as she ran. With the loss of her Dust, Weiss was curious about what she could do with her Semblance. At most, she had a few basic offensive options, such as her shield and the ability to accelerate with her Glyphs. It was nearly half of her abilities completely gone. But that didn't matter now. The Dust chamber slotted the Ice Dust. The edge of her blade illuminated with a wispy light as she pressed forward. She broke through the clearing, and the few Grimm loitering near her turned in surprise. Her Glyph shrunk underfoot before the pressure was released, and she soared high above into the air.

She could see them. That thing had Jaune by the throat near the other end of the clearing. Its faceless, lifeless body, shrouded in darkness, sent a chill down her spine even from a distance. That thing was unnatural. Grimm couldn't speak and couldn't put together such complex ideas and expressions. Whatever it was, it had no right to exist in this world. A simple white Glyph appeared behind her as she peaked in the air. With tremendous force, she shot back down toward the ground. Myrtnater tip struck straight into the snow, an eruption of ice breaking forward as the ground shook from the force. Two massive, icy walls erupted, smashing apart anything in their way. Like blades, they cut across the clearing. With gritted determination, Weiss channeled her Semblance and pushed the ice walls away from each other. The ground tore apart. The Grimm fled in opposite directions as she divided the land. She had created a straight path from her to the monster.

Myrtenaster's chamber clicked and whirred. The chamber slotted once more. Her Ice Dust was gone. All that was left was the few bits of Fire Dust that had survived the crash. It would barely last one more attack.

"And so the wounded hare scurries its way back towards the bait despite the danger it knows." The thing said. Weiss' legs felt like lead. She wanted to run, to flee. She knew she stood no chance. But that fear hadn't stopped that idiot. So it wouldn't stop her either. "You children are all the same. Young, and naive. Dangle the tiniest hint of hope before you, and you all rush straight toward death itself in search of salvation. How utterly disappointing."

A Glyph formed under her feet once more. She prepared herself for one final attack. She would stake it all in one strike.

"And so another hunt has concluded." The thing's words rolled out. Its voice was tinged with boredom. Jaune's face was flushed—his weak gasps of air were the only sounds coming from him.

Could she do it? Would it be enough? The doubt gnawed at her. Each passing second weakened her resolve.

The thing's attention was focused on her. Its vibrant Golden Eyes stared into her soul. She was terrified. There was no life, no emotion, just a burning, unyielding rage buried deep inside it.

She could hear the other Grimm making their way around her ice walls, their snarls and howls drawing into a symphony of hate and anger.

"Strike me, girl," It said. "Show me your resolve before death claims you."

She hesitated. Her Glyph flickered as something moved beneath the snow under her feet. It was like a snake, darting unseen as it struck her. A barbed shadow erupted from the ground, lashing out towards her. Rolling back, she managed to avoid it. The shadow gave chase. It struck and snared its way around her, flickering with incredible speed as it gave chase.

From the corner of her eyes, she could barely trace the length of the shadow. Like some ugly, mutated tail, it trailed back towards the thing. It flickered and hunted at its command. Her focus slipped, and the barbed-like end of the tail grazed the side of her cheek. It tore through her Aura with ease, slicing open her flesh. A trail of red already began to cascade down her chilled skin.

It was fast—faster than she could react. Each passing glance shredded her Aura and cut her open. It was toying with her. Its emotionless gaze showed no amusement as its tail prodded her every which way. She tried slicing at it with her blade, but the hardened metal-like tail deflected her attack. It recovered too quickly, and as she tried to regain her footing, its icy surface wrapped around her neck. The tail lifted her into the air, strangling against her Aura as it began to choke the life out of her.

The sharpened point of the tail hovered in front of her face, like an animal waiting for the signal to kill.

Its tail dragged her closer. Struggling as she might, she could not break its hold. Closer and closer, she was brought towards its lifeless, shadowed face. The thing's head was like a knight's helm. It reflected no light, the gold in its eyes the only signs of life.

"I take no pride in hunting children. But the tides of fate have already begun to move, and a new era has already begun to wake. You will be the first of many, child. Take pride in this. Your death shall unleash a hunt across the shattered world unlike any before in history."

She was going to die.

'Hertz, Winter, Whiteley, Ruby…. I'm sorry.'

"For a so-called Hunter, you sure take your sweet ass time." Though the voice was hoarse and weak, it was unmistakably Jaune.

The creature turned to face him. As it did, Jaune plugged the shattered remains of his blade into one of the thing's eyes. A bubbling mass of blackened sludge formed from the wound as Jaune used all his strength to raise his foot high up and slam his boot into the hilt of his sword, driving it into the creature's head.

The thing stumbled back. It released Jaune in shock as its hands went to its face. The pressure around Weiss' neck also lifted, and with every instinct, she pulled apart the tail with every ounce of strength she could muster. She was already retreating before she fell to the ground. She put distance between herself and the thing. Jaune was by her side in a moment; where he found the strength to keep moving was beyond her. It was taking everything she had just to try and keep her vision from going dark.

"Weiss," Jaune said. He grabbed her arm, and in a moment, they were already running. "Cover us!"

It took Weiss a moment to piece together what he wanted. Then, focusing her Semblance, she expanded a Glyph under her feet. Raising Myrtenaster in her hand, she traced the blade's edge as she concentrated. The chamber slotted and clicked, and bright flames wrapped around the sword. She stopped, took a steadying breath, and then thrust it downwards. The clearing erupted into fire. The howls and screams of the Grimm became fading echoes as they ran.

Jaune

Distance.

If only he could put some real distance between them and the horde, it would give him time to plan and adapt.

His feet kicked up snow as they ran, his fogged breath blurring his vision as his head swam with pain and adrenaline.

"We can't outrun it," Weiss shouted. Her steps were staggered. He could already see the damage from earlier starting to wear her down. As much as he hated to admit it, she was right. They couldn't outrun them. In a straight fight, they stood no chance. Just the horde alone was enough to overwhelm them. Fighting that monster at the same time was suicide.

"You came back," Jaune said.

"Of course I did. I won't abandon someone I care about again," she said. "The next time you try something as stupid as that again, I swear the Grimm won't have a chance to get to you before I do."

"Might have to get in line then. Pyrrha already has top billing on that front."

"You are an idiot," she laughed. It was small, but it helped ease the tension and break apart the settling doom that dominated the forest's shadows. "Please tell me you have a plan."

A plan. Did he? What could he do? Charging headfirst into the fray was all he knew how to do. It hadn't been enough. He hadn't been enough. What did that leave him with? What else would he have at his disposal if his sword wasn't enough?

The broken blade hung loosely in his grip as he ran. Jaune forced himself to look elsewhere and think of anything else lest the pain and regret stop him from moving.

"No, I don't," he admitted.

"Something. Anything," Weiss prodded. "That thick head of yours is stuffed to the brim with all that useless Grimm knowledge. There has to be something we can do. I refuse to go out in this forest, and I won't let you roll over and give up either."

"I didn't take you for such a slave driver…" He joked. But her words sparked something in him. When all else failed, he had always been able to adapt and overcome because of his instincts. When that failed, he had something else, something he had coveted and honed over the endless years in that forsaken place between the edges of civilization.

"That thing isn't a Grimm," Jaune said. "It's not the same as the others. It's not some creature with habits and patterns we can break down and exploit. It's a relentless, ancient killing machine. All we can do is run."

Weiss stopped, the snow crunching under her foot as she steadied her breath. Her gaze shone definitely, the usual determination now burning brighter than ever as her light blue eyes reflected the moon. The blood staining her face and the tumble of her silky white hair, matted and dirtied from the constant danger, gave her the outline in that moment of the heroes Jaune had read about in the stories his mother had told him as a child. She looked like a warrior.

"I don't care if you think it's hopeless. I don't care if it is hopeless." She said, clenching her fists tightly. "As of this stupid training mission, we agreed to be partners. That means I have your back, and you have mine. The only real thing I've learned since I started at this academy is that partners are supposed to trust each other. I don't know what that means, not really. But I'm trusting you right now. I'll watch your back, so get us home."

Jaune closed his eyes. His head and heart were a flurry of relentless emotions and turmoil. Even so, he raised one hand and slapped himself across the face.

She was right. He owed it to her to keep himself composed. There was no reason to give into despair now. To give in to what that monster wanted. And he wasn't alone anymore, was he? He had Weiss. A partner. Someone willing to stand with him and face this nightmare together. They were going to make it through this. They had to. People were counting on him back at Beacon.

"If we do this, we have to separate that thing from the hoard. We can't beat both at the same time," he finally said.

"And how do we do that?" She asked. "We have no Dust, and we're both almost running on empty."

"The plane." Jaune finally said after a pause. "We were going there anyway. If anything from our luggage survived the wreckage, we can use that. Isolate that thing. Send out a distress signal and hold the line until help arrives."

"You saw that thing," Weiss countered. "How are we supposed to match it until help even arrives? We don't even know if anything is left on the plane."

"That's just it," Jaune said, a strange sense of confidence starting to bubble in his chest. "We were playing to its tune, its game. It thinks of us as easy prey, just another pair of prizes to add to its collection. Well, now we have the initiative."

He turned to her, a grin breaking across his dirt and blood-smeared face.

"Let's go hunting."

A.N: And here we are! It took a little bit, but we made it! If you enjoyed please leave a comment or a follow. The next one will be out soon. All the credit in the world goes to Kabuto S. Inferno for both editing and listening to my constant rambles.

. : Glad to see you! I'm really happy that you've enjoyed it so far. We're almost at the climax of this arc, and I'm eager to hear your thoughts!

Sir Lone: The idea to give Jaune that knowledge actually came from Goblin Slayer. I haven't had a chance to see Dungeon Meshi yet, but if there is a character like that, I am already putting it on my TBW. One of my favorite character tropes is the almost encyclopedic knowledge of an enemy. And Yeah, Jaune is easily the most unfortunate character in this story, but it makes for one heck of a ride. I just hope he's ready for what's next.

RohanVos: And I appreciate you. Thank you for reading.

Guest: They'll need each other if they want to survive. However, I'm not sure teamwork alone can get them through this. As for Qrow, rescue, and Weiss's survival...well, that's all a little spoiler. I can say that the next chapter is the penultimate before the car's bloody conclusion. I'm glad the flashbacks are starting to earn their weight. I was really skeptical about them, but I needed the extra context of what they set up for Jaune as a character. I hope you enjoy this latest chapter.

Guest: We're past the point of training, so it's all or nothing now.

Guest: I mean...maybe...

AtomicR4y: I am always surprised by Lucia's reception, and I really can't say more because of her impact on the story going forward. But I will say she will be coming back, in smaller ways, sooner rather than later. I hope you enjoyed it!

Guest: I'm happy you think so. I want to see this story to its conclusion, however long it takes, and you guys all make it worth it. I'm not the fastest at updates, but I don't want to abandon the story. As for their survival...

Guest: Yes!

billsazguard: I appreciate the offer and am flattered, but I'm not looking to hire any commissions now. I hope you enjoy the story, and again, I really am flattered by the offer.

Guest: Nah...she'll be fine.

Guest: Oh, my friend, it's only just begun.

. : I'm glad to hear it; this is the climax. Everything Jaune has gone through up until this point will be tested, his skills, his desire to be a hero, and his desire to move forward.

Guest: This isn't the same as the last one. It's entirely a different beast. But if there is one thing Jaune has, he can adapt and break down who to kill whatever Grimm he comes across. I wonder if that'll be enough, though...

RohanVos: And we're back!

Guest: I am confident the next chapter won't be as long of a wait. I've been preparing for this fight for so long that I want to see it come out more than anyone.

Guest: It's becoming a habit at this point.

Somesimplereader: I absolutely was not playing Mad Max Fury Road soundtracks while writing this...nope...not even a little...

Guest: It certainly was, but it's also more than capable. A few wannabe Huntsmen shouldn't pose any threat or challenge. I wonder if they can survive.

Guest: his only dream, constantly shattered and reforged in the heat of battle in the darkest pits of his grief and despair. He'll keep at least this one last promise.

Guest: Yup, and here's another one for you!

Guest: Weiss is surprisingly fun to write. I gain a new appreciation every time I start part of her chapters or sections. She has so much depth and story that I feel never gets focused on properly in the show, and she banters with Jaune here are both fun and easy to write. I like them as a pair. Lucia is also surprising in how she just kind of happened. She was meant to be a one-off save for Jaune in that first Grimm encounter. Now, she is an active player in this story.

Guest: I have returned!