A/N: With this chapter, we congratulate 2 whole years of this, with me delivering an average of 1 chapter per month. YIPPEE-
Anyway, here's another chapter. I wanted to explore more of Fred's character on this one, I hope I solidified the vision I had of him and how he would act.
And one more, less important, thing, despite my best intentions and wishes, I have created a pa t re on account as per the request of my friends. Do I think this will blow up? No. But I will accept commissions there, and you will also have access to everything I am writing, things in the works, and the like. If you want to incentivize me to do this, feel free to let me know.
ww w patr eon com/ lushikatomikyarimimo
I think I can't actually post a link here... so... add dots and delete blanks I guess?
konmek43: Gus was established as a character before, but... y'know... just now did I grow the spine to actually write him.
RhoMarck: I won't deny, one of the reasons why I added that "plot point" and yes, Gus is a bit chill. Truth be told, compared to the other comments on AO3, you're the one that came closest to guess correctly. Good job.
What started as a joke, now is something 2 years in the works... Damn.
The workshop in Beacon Academy was a cluttered yet organized space, filled with the faint hum of machinery and the occasional clink of metal on metal. Shelves lined the walls, filled with various tools, materials, and half-finished projects. The air was thick with the smell of metal and Dust, creating a tangible atmosphere of innovation and experimentation.
Francisco stood at his workbench, his brow furrowed in concentration as he carefully stitched together the threads infused with gravity Dust. His left arm encased in a steel casting, hung limply by his side. Despite this setback, he was determined to continue his work, driven by a fierce determination and a desire to be done with it as soon as possible.
Fred watched from a nearby table, his arms crossed as he observed Francisco's progress. He had nothing better to do, but even he was starting to grow bored of the monotony of the workshop. He glanced around at the various projects scattered throughout the room, his eyes lingering on a half-finished weapon lying on another workbench.
As Francisco continued to work, his movements slow and deliberate, Fred's mind began to wander. 'Should I train?' He asked himself. 'Everyone does it, so I probably should...'
Tired of watching Francisco stubbornly tailor, Fred jumped off the table. "I'll go train." He declared. The bald one didn't even bat an eye, keeping his focus on his current task.
Did Fred need to train? He honestly couldn't answer that question. Ever since he woke in the infirmary, he did not get a singular muscle cramp, nor did he feel any weaker despite not training or working out at all. It was almost as if his body didn't require any physical stimuli.
An interaction between the Library's Light and Aura?
Still, he needed to actually think and practice new and creative ways of using his most unique weapon Francisco so graciously made for him.
As he made his way to his locker, something else caught his attention. He felt a vibration in his pocket. "A call..." He murmured, reaching his Scroll.
He had not socialized too much on Beacon, as such, his contact list was pretty much populated by his team, Ruby, and a select few professors he enjoyed the lectures of.
The scroll showed him the caller, 'Shitface (Bemaia)' it read, so he answered, reaching the locker where his gloves were located.
"Hello there," Fred spoke. "Any news? Good ones I hope." He asked, stopping in front of his locker, door open.
The scroll came to life. "Eh... I dunno if they're good or bad, but they're news alright." Bemaia's voice came through as tired, perhaps fed up with something. 'A lot must've happened.' Fred thought.
"I got the money, so that's the good news." The winged librarian spoke, making Fred nod to nobody. "But I didn't get the job, which I don't know how I should feel about that. I still got some conflicting feelings about that."
Again, Fred nodded, but Bemaia wouldn't call just for that. "Anything else?" He asked, coming out a bit rude.
In the background, Fred could hear Francisco groaning in pain, which was preceded by the sound of something heavy and hard crashing on the floor. Metal. Fred ignored it. "Fuck!" A yell was also heard originating from the same direction.
"I should get back in Beacon by 8 PM, maybe. I don't know how time zones work in Remnant." Fred sighed. That was a simple matter of looking it up on his scroll. "And uh... Can you get Ozpin for me?"
Fred was midway through putting on the gloves but was stopped when he heard Bemaia say that. "Did you call him?"
The winged librarian took a moment to answer, maybe he was busy? "Yep I did, but I got no answer. I need to say something to him, like, right now, but he won't answer his personal number. Could you go to his office and check if he's up there?"
A lengthy sigh escaped Fred's lips. "I pity Ozpin, trully I do." He said, in a mocking tone. "Imagine wanting to take a break of an hour or so, only to be bothered by a random student on some 'urgent business'. Couldn't be me, that's for sure."
Bemaia didn't answer to that, he was that stubborn. "Ha... Sure, I'll do it." Fred said.
"Great, if you find him, tell'em to answer the scroll," Bemaia spoke in a monotone voice. "I swear, if I have to be within the same room as these Atlas folk for another day, I will drink paint. You'd love here Fred. Right up the alley with the Nest Dwellers. Same attitude, the same lifestyle, and same ignorance." Bemaia then finished the call.
Despite being taken aback by the comment, Fred chuckled a bit, re-reading Bemaia's contact name. "Thanks for reminding me why I set that name." Fred then placed back the gloves inside the locker and threw a glance toward the workshop. "Place's getting crowded..." He shrugged and left for Beacon Tower.
The towering spire of Beacon Academy stood as a beacon of hope and knowledge, reaching toward the sky with a majestic grandeur. The tower was a masterpiece of architecture, blending modern design with classical elegance. Its sleek lines and towering height made it a prominent landmark in the academy, visible from almost anywhere on campus.
As Fred approached Beacon Tower, he couldn't help but feel a sense of awe at its magnificence. The tower was surrounded by lush greenery, with well-maintained gardens and pathways leading up to its entrance. The air was filled with the sweet scent of flowers, adding to the tranquil atmosphere of the area. 'Comparable to the buildings in K-Corp's nest...' Fred noted.
The entrance to the tower was grand and imposing, with large double doors made of rich mahogany. The doors were flanked by towering columns, adding to the sense of grandeur. Above the entrance, the academy's crest was proudly displayed, a symbol of its prestigious history and reputation.
He has been there before, but he has never come here alone. Without the eye-sore that was Bemaia, the ball of annoyance that was Penny, and the ever-loud Francisco, he could simply take in the environment and stop to appreciate delicate such as this one.
Fred stepped through the doors into the tower's interior, which was just as impressive as its exterior. The foyer was spacious and well-lit, with high ceilings and elegant chandeliers hanging overhead. The walls were adorned with paintings and tapestries, depicting scenes from the academy's history.
One tapestry in particular caught Fred's eye, depicting a group of Huntsmen and Huntresses battling Grimm in the early days of the academy. The warriors' faces were fierce with determination, their weapons raised high as they fought against the monstrous creatures. The scene was a vivid reminder of the academy's origins and its mission to protect the people of Remnant.
Adjacent to the tapestries were paintings that depicted key moments in the academy's history. One painting showed the founding members of Beacon Academy, their faces stern yet proud as they laid the foundation for what would become one of the most prestigious institutions in the world.
Ozwald was the name of Beacon's first Headmaster. He appeared in that picture, front and center, and behind him were some other less photogenic people. The thing that stood out in the painting was what Ozwald held in his hand, a cane, probably the very same cane Ozpin carried everywhere. Fred figured that the cane was of cultural significance, considering that almost all paintings in the hallway that depicted Headmasters of old were holding onto that very same cane. Excluding a few, of course.
Another painting depicted the academy's first graduating class, their smiles bright with hope and ambition as they set out to make their mark on the world. Each painting and tapestry told a story of courage, resilience, and determination, capturing the essence of what it meant to be a Huntsman or Huntress.
The only response he could manage to create was a scoff. "So much history, so much pedigree... And yet they let 'them' in?" Fred turned away from the art pieces. "What a joke, Francisco can't even read." Yet, despite his silent comment, he was very much comfortable. "At least I guess it's up to me to carry him." He said with a smirk on his face.
As Fred made his way through the tower, he passed by classrooms and lecture halls, where students were engaged in their studies. The atmosphere was bustling with activity, yet there was an underlying sense of peace and serenity that permeated the air.
Finally, Fred reached the main atrium of the tower, a vast space that stretched upwards towards a domed ceiling. The atrium was filled with natural light, thanks to large windows that lined the walls. At the center of the atrium was a table with a receptionist behind it. Further behind the employee, was a metal and glass elevator that moved upwards, leading to the higher levels of the tower.
Ozpin's office. Fred approached the table.
The receptionist was a skinny man, in his thirties. He wore the default Beacon Staff uniform which consisted of a dark brown two-piece suit with a red shirt underneath. "Good morning," Fred spoke in a soft tone, wearing a friendly smile.
"Good morning, how may I be of assistance?" The voice of the receptionist was rough and ragged. Fred assumed him to be a chain smoker.
Now, how should he address the fact that Bemaia wanted to talk to Ozpin? Ozpin's the Headmaster, he will always be busy, no way he'll agree to talk with a simple student. 'A small lie should do the trick.' Fred decided. "Yes, well, I'm with Team PBFF of the first year, and my team and I have some business to discuss with the Headmaster regarding our last mission's report, which he specified to talk about privately. Is he available?" Fred asked, in a lower tone so as to not draw any attention to himself.
"Oh, I'm sorry," the man behind the counter began. "I'm afraid he isn't available at the moment..." He then looked both ways and leaned in to say something very quietly. "Someone died, you see, and he's attending the funeral..." Fred didn't show any reaction. "I'm sorry to tell you, It's just that... I overheard it earlier today and It's been building up inside and, and-"
Fred raised his hand, offering a sympathetic smile. "It's fine. I'll come back later then." He said, turning away from the counter, intent to leave the building.
Once outside, Fred sat on a wooden bench nearby, pulled his scroll, and dialed Bemaia. He watched as a team wearing a gray and black uniform passed by him, which he promptly ignored as a response came from the scroll. "Yes?"
"Ozpin's at a funeral. Seems like someone important died." Fred explains, short and sweet. However, Bemaia didn't answer Fred at first. Instead, the former librarian could hear Bemaia talking with someone else nearby.
"Hey, what's a funeral?" Fred could faintly hear that, imagining that Bemaia turned his face away from the scroll to ask that question, immediately face palming.
"You don't know what a funeral is?! You're joking." His thoughts exactly were voiced by the person Bemaia talked to. Despite doing his best to figure out to whom the voice belonged, the audio was too muffled and almost inaudible, but Fred could put two and two together and know it was Weiss.
"Just answer the question, Weiss." If it wasn't confirmed before, he just confirmed it. Were they already at a public transportation station? Fred pondered.
"I refuse to answer that. Look it up yourself." Weiss responded, rightfully baffled by the question.
"Okay, uhh," Bemaia returned to the scroll, pretending that the previous interaction didn't happen. "Fred, can you ask Francisco what kind of Dust he'll need to finish the suits? I got a killer deal with the good folk of the SDC, not to mention the funds to pay for it."
Fred sighed. "I'm not your errand boy, call him yourself." he was about to end the call right then and there, but Bemaia retorted with a pretty convincing argument. "I did, but the dumbass can't seem to accept the call. So, can you at least make him call me? I really want those suits done."
There was no reason to refuse at this point, so Fred relented. "Fine, he'll call you soon." Fred, said, finishing the call.
As Fred sat on the bench outside Beacon Tower, he couldn't shake off the feeling of annoyance at being dragged into Bemaia's errands once again. He glanced at his Scroll, contemplating whether to just ignore the request and let Francisco deal with it himself. However, a sense of duty, albeit begrudgingly, compelled him to fulfill the request.
Fred dialed Francisco's number. The call went unanswered. The former librarian sighed as he realized Francisco couldn't answer the Scroll due to his illiteracy. He stood up from the bench and made his way back into Beacon Tower. Passing through the grand entrance, he navigated the corridors and staircases until he reached the workshop where Francisco was working.
Entering the cluttered space, Fred found Francisco still focused on his task, meticulously working on the gravity-dust-infused threads. "Hey, Francisco," Fred called out, drawing the bald Huntsman's attention.
Francisco looked up, setting down his work. "What's up, Fred?" he asked, wiping his right hand on a rag nailed to a wooden shelf.
The former librarian observed the used rag. It was stained black, as expected, residue from the Gravity Dust Francisco was using, however, there were also pinkish stains on the rag, and some even turned brown after mixing with the black.
Blood, Fred deduced, but why?
Fred turned his attention to his partner's right hand. A bandage bandage covered his middle and ring fingers. No, scratch that, after looking at it for more than a second, Fred noticed that it was no bandage, but a piece of ripped cloth, likely taken from that very same dirty rag he used to clean his hand. That would also explain the blood stain on it.
As to why the rag was nailed to the shelf, Fred could only theorize about this mystery. Did he nail it for easier access? Did he nail it so it would be easier to clean his right hand? This accident happened in the time it took for him to go to Beacon Tower and back.
'Well, not my problem anyways.' Fred thought to himself. 'I won't be the one to take him to the infirmary after he gets an infection.' Francisco couldn't be stupid enough to not know that, but he is stubborn enough not to treat himself to finish a project in time.
"Bemaia needs to know what kind of Dust you'll need to finish the suits. He said he got a deal with the SDC and has the funds to pay for it," Fred explained, crossing his arms.
Francisco frowned, scratching his head. "I'll need Gravity Dust. It's the only kind that I don't have enough of, and is also the kind that I need the most, so... Tell him to get half of his body weight in Gravity Dust," he replied.
Fred nodded, taking note of the information. "Got it. I'll let him know," he said, turning to leave the workshop, as Francisco returned to his seat, lowering his head.
As Fred made his way out of the workshop, he was quick to pull out his scroll and call Bemaia one last time. "Bemaia?"
The other side was quick to answer. "Yeah? Got his request?"
Fred simply responded: "Half of your weight in Gravity Dust. That's it. Safe travels."
Bemaia hummed in response, "Hm. Okay, thanks." And just like that, Bemaia finished the call.
Fred sighed. "By the wings, what a waste of time!" He could almost scream with how bored he had become. "JNPR is nowhere to be found, Francisco is busy, team RWBY is either out of town or doing complimentary classes, and my leader was visited by the general of the Atlas Military. So what's there for me to do?!"
His scroll told him that it was ten o'clock, lunchtime was close, but wasn't quite there yet. "There's nothing. No urgency, no emergency, no nothing..." He sighed, accepting his reality. "I guess I'll go train… Or go to one of those complementary classes…"
Earlier that day,
As soon as Fred exited the workshop Francisco opened a small drawer below the table. 'Where was it?' He asked himself, rummaging through this compartment with his single good hand. "Ah, there!" He found the object of his obsession.
From the compartment beneath the table, the bald librarian produced a small blade; a carving knife, commonly used to draw images and cut shapes into wood. He held the tool with a determined look, although he was about to make great progress in his project.
Wordlessly, Francisco placed the knife in his mouth, biting the hilt to hold it steady. 'The thing about Aura is that it blocks incoming damage without my input, almost like it has a mind of its own.' As if to prove his theory, attempted to cut the tip of his ring finger with the knife still in his mouth, but a crimson barrier surrounding the finger became visible and prevented the knife from touching the skin.
Francisco sighed. 'This is a problem.' Curious eyes of nearby students minding their own business fell on the librarian after he let out a groaned pain. 'Despite blocking damage, it still hurts just like the real thing.'
To further test his theory, Francisco put on a testing glove. The glove had no special Dust properties, but it would do just fine as a testing subject. 'But the damage never reached the skin, that is the issue.'
With the glove on, he attempted to cut the tip of his ring finger once again, and just like last time, no blood was drawn and the glove remained unscathed. 'What's the point of a suit that repels attacks that hit it, if the attack never hits in the first place?' Francisco let out another groan, but this one wasn't a pained one. 'This could be simply a matter of distance, if the suit was further away from the body, it would block the damage as the Aura wouldn't activate thanks to its shorter range, but then it would end up looking stupid and actively hither combat capabilities.'
This was truly a great issue. If the suit only worked after the wearer's aura was depleted, then it wouldn't actually work. 'Dust activates with Aura or another chain of activated Dust. If the opponent also has Aura, their own Aura would activate the suit upon attacking, however, if the opponent is a Grimm, who has no Aura, then the user would activate it by using their own Aura... But if their Aura is already broken, then it would be worthless.'
But, taking a shower this morning, he thought of a solution. 'However, if the Aura didn't activate upon receiving damage... Then it would be perfect. But how?' Francisco knew not if it was a matter of training, or plain impossible. 'I've come too far to give up now. There has to be a way.' If only he hadn't been skipping literally all classes but the combat one, maybe he would have the answer more easily.
'Maybe if I focus hard enough...' He tried, clenching his eyes as hard as he could, then trying to cut his finger on the knife still on his teeth... To no avail. When he opened his eyes, not only the glove had not a scratch, but the pain on his ring finger was starting to sting a bit too much.
"Ah..." He sighed, frustrated. The knife in his mouth fell out as he separated his teeth subconsciously to let out a sigh. As if in reaction, Francisco's body stiffened, his muscles on the back and the abdomen contracting, arching his torso, as his legs moved on their own, making him stand up from the chair, his tighs hitting against the table.
Francisco could only watch as the table shook with his sudden movement, creating enough turbulence to shake some tools and objects off of the table. "Fuck!" He yelled, his scream proceeded by the clanking of metal tools and other equipment.
"Ha..." He exhaled. "Now I gotta get everything..." He yawned, but there was nothing he could do about it. He lifted himself from the chair and bent to pick up everything that fell down.
One last thing remained on the floor. The Carving knife. "Huh..." Francisco's mind began to work, as he grabbed the knife by the blade. He raised the knife to his working table and began to clench his fist.
He felt it. He felt the edge trying to break through his Aura, but he concentrated, taking a deep breath, and putting even more strength on his fingers.
If he would describe the feeling he felt at that moment, Francisco would describe it as 'trying to pee with your pants on'. Everything leading up to that moment in his life was made with the effort of decreasing the amount of damage he suffered. This was counterintuitive, trying to deny your own soul from protecting your body.
After a few seconds, he felt warm liquid running down his hand, pulse, and arm. He opened his eyes and was met with a great image. His Aura was still up, but the knife passed through it and its sharp edge was now carved deep into his middle and ring fingers. The cut was at least two centimeters deep. He wished nothing important was lost with his little test despite wearing a wide smile.
After taking the knife off of his finger, he could still feel his Aura attempting to fix it, so he fought against it. It was taking great effort to do so, especially with blood leaving his body.
He held the knife with a proper grip, tore off a part of the dirty rag he was using, and tied it to both his bleeding fingers, to prevent dirtying the ground and table with his blood. He also tore the rag out of the nail and cleaned the table, the knife, and his arm with it.
"Great. Now, next up is..." Next was trying to work while holding his Aura bay. An exercise in Aura control has never been seen before.
After all, why would anyone train themselves to prevent their self-defense mechanism from preventing damage?
The sun was reaching its apex over Beacon Academy, increasing the temperature across the training grounds as Fred made his way to the Extra Combat Class. He did not need such a class, but boredom had driven him to show up regardless, completely disregarding the process of signing up for the class. As he walked, he pondered his decision, the sound of his footsteps echoing in the empty halls.
Fred's reasoning was simple yet complex. He craved a challenge, something to test his skills and push him to his limits. The regular Combat Class had failed to provide that, with Professor Goodwitch refusing to allow him or any of his teammates to spar.
In the regular Combat Class, Fred had chosen to focus solely on himself instead, honing his skills and perfecting his techniques without engaging in sparring matches with his classmates. While this approach had allowed him to refine his abilities to a high degree, it had also left him feeling unfulfilled. He yearned for an opponent who could match his skill level, someone who could push him to his limits and force him to adapt and evolve as a huntsman.
Fred saw the Extra Combat Class as an opportunity to find that challenge. He hoped that by facing off against students who had struggled in the regular class, he would finally find the engagement he craved. He saw it as a chance to not only test his skills against those who were weaker but also to learn from their mistakes and weaknesses.
"If they allow me to participate, that is." Which, was a possibility. A very real one. But between watching Francisco knit and watching unskilled people fight and maybe participate? An easy choice.
As Fred arrived at the designated training grounds, he was struck by the sight before him. The area was vast, with various training equipment scattered around. Several targets were set up at different distances, and a sparring ring occupied the center of the grounds. The rising sun bathed everything in a warm, golden light, creating a serene yet ominous atmosphere.
The other students in the class were already there, four in total, going through their warm-up routines or practicing their basic combat techniques. Fred recognized Jaune Arc, a tall and lanky boy with his signature messy blond hair, as one of the students. Jaune seemed determined but clumsy, his movements lacking the grace and precision that his Crocea Mors demanded. It looked like Francisco had a long road ahead of him if he planned to help Jaune.
Nearby, Fred noticed Cardin Winchester, a burly and aggressive student known for his bullying tendencies if Bemaia's interaction with him was anything to go by. Cardin was practicing with his two-handed mace on a punching bag, his movements powerful but lacking finesse. Fred could see the frustration on Cardin's face, knowing that despite his strength, he lacked the skill to truly excel in combat.
There were some other students there, but Fred knew none of them, nor did they particularly spark an interest in him to actually observe them.
What was really odd, however, was that Glynda Goodwitch wasn't present for this class. Instead, Doctor Oobleck was standing in the middle of the sparring grounds, drinking what Fred assumed to be coffee from a thermal bottle. He approached the doctor.
Fred walked past the students, past the training equipment, and walked directly toward the Doctor. With a friendly voice, he spoke."Hello Doctor. Had a good morning I hope?"
Not a moment was wasted before Oobleck answered, "Oh how I wish it had been one... What brings you here, Fred? I heard your partner was researching Dust infusions, how is his progress?"
Fred sighed. "If you could call trial and error research, then yes, he is. I think he finished the first of the three suits." Despite the clear distaste for Francisco's way of going about his self-imposed task, Fred was still looking forward to the results.
"I see. Imagine my surprise when Glynda told me Your partner requested a loom of all things! I'm afraid that it'll only build up dust after he's done with it." The doctor spoke with a tinge of sadness in his voice. It is true, that no one that Fred has seen thus far has shown interest in tailoring outfits, much less weaving, producing, and refining silk and cloth. "I'm afraid that area of expertise is not very appealing to the young."
Fred nodded despite having no desire to learn that area as well. "Well, since my partner actively refuses any help I try to offer, I decided to make myself useful and participate in some of the Extra classes, despite not being required of me."
The doctor nodded, satisfied with Fred's attitude. "Yes, yes, this is exactly what being a Huntsman is about, going above and beyond what's expected of you. I would further insentivise you by giving you extra points in the class but I am afraid you don't need them" Oobleck then seemed to notice Fred had come equipped with his weapon. "Ah, I see you've also come prepared for a tussle! Very well, wait here for a moment!"
Fred couldn't keep his trained eyes on the doctor as he became nothing but a blur, zipping past him leaving only a gust of wind as proof of his presence there. This was strangely common for the man to do, dashing from side to side of the classroom to always keep the class's eyes on him, or at least incentivizing them to. "Okay." Fred worded, still incredulous of Oobleck's quickness.
Producing a step stool from somewhere Fred couldn't see, the doctor placed it in the middle of the sparring grounds and stood atop it. "Students, your attention please." His voice echoed through the room. Everyone present dropped whatever activities they were doing as their attention shifted towards Oobleck.
"We have received some much-needed assistance from one of the first years, Fred." Oobleck then motioned to Fred, who simply waved his hand to the students. "He will do a few sparring matches with some of you. He will choose his opponent, and should you back down from his challenge... Feel free to repeat the class next semester, I'm sure Professor Goodwitch will be thrilled to see your faces again!" The doctor spoke with great enthusiasm, though his ominous tone did make a few of the students look at each other in doubt.
"Lunchtime will soon be upon us, so let us begin immediately! Fred, if you will." Oobleck then stepped out of the step stool, allowing Fred to take his place.
The former librarian looked at one corner of the room, then moved his gaze to another. Surrounding him was in total eight students, all from the first year. So, Fred picked the only sensible choice for someone to pick under his circumstances. "This is a place of learning, a place made to break through one's limits... As such, I desire to learn my own limits. All eight of you at once!" Fred blurted out, taking even the professor by surprise.
"While I can appreciate bravado, It is very tragic if not backed up by skill. Are you certain of this, young man?" Oobleck asked in an attempt to dissuade Fred from this choice. "It feels like you're making a very poor judgment of the situation."
But Fred cared not. "It's fine. I won't know for sure if I can or can't do unless I try." the former librarian reasoned with the doctor. "Besides, I was the leader of the control team, I can handle this much fine." Or at least, he used to.
The doctor relented. "Well... Why should I decline it, if that's what you wish? Very well! Everyone, In the arena, now! You have two minutes to discuss and organize yourselves."
Now Playing: Early Battle (Enemy Theme 1) Library of Ruina OST
The four students whose combat skills were deemed lacking by Professor Goodwitch, all congregated in a circle, each one hanging their arms above the other's shoulder. These four young men needed a plan, and fast.
"Let's start with me." Jaune Arc, the Leader of team JNPR spoke out first, pulling the boys' attention. By taking the initiative in this particular group activity, it went unspoken that he would be the one to lead this small battalion. "I'm Jaune, I have my Crocea Mors, and the largest Aura pool out of all of us. No semblance." Jaune finished, then looked to the person on his right, a cue for them to go next.
The man to Jaune's right was a small man, abnormally small. He was hanging from Jaune's and Cardin's shoulders, with his feet not even touching the ground despite both of them arching their backs inwards into the circle they'd formed. "The name's David, I'm likely the weakest physically out of all of us, my semblance makes my opponents purposefully underestimate me, and uh, I got my trusty Goliath."
David's 'Goliath' was nothing but a sling made of reinforced rope and some kind of leather that Jaune couldn't identify. From the ridiculous amount of raw Dust crystals on his belt, each of them could deduce that he used Dust as ammunition, and also anything else that fit in his sling. David looked to his right, the next man on the line.
Cardin Winchester was up next. For all intents and purposes, he is a gigantic slab of meat. "Cardin. I got The Executioner with me." Some of the boys snickered at the name. "Yeah, yeah, edgy I know. I designed it when I was kid, okay?!" He said, slapping the back of the next student's head. "My semblance allows me to release a controlled explosion where my weapon hit." Then he turned his head to the right. "I'm also likely the strongest in terms of strength of all of us." He finished with a tinge of pride, letting the last one talk.
The last one was a dark dark-haired man with pale skin. "Percival." This one was quieter, he spoke in a lower voice. "My Rapier, Moonshard. My semblance allows me to dodge any and all attacks. Only, my stamina isn't particularly great, nor is my strength." And that was all he had to say.
Jaune got to thinking while speaking at a lower volume so Fred wouldn't hear. "We could have worse odds here." He said, "We all kind of complete each other's weaknesses. I soak up damage, Cardin deals the damage, David peppered him with projectiles, and Perci can deal locational and precise damage without being punished that much..." However there was a gigantic 'But' stuck in his throat.
"Does anyone know how Fred fights? His weapon, and his semblance?" David asked, taking Jaune's next question and making it his own.
Cardin was quick to answer. "No, I don't. And I don't think anyone does." The leader of Team CRDN said, his voice filled with poison towards his opponent. "Glynda doesn't let him or anyone from his team actually participate during combat class, so they just stand there in the corner, working out."
Jaune then butted in, adding to Cardin's argument. "And worse yet, he didn't fight during his initiation. Fred kind of joined Beacon by proxy."
Those were some bad news, really bad news. With no reliable information about their opponent, they would have to rely on what little information they had on Fred's teammates and what Fred looked like from afar.
"I can't imagine Francisco's fighting style and Fred's to be correlated. One uses a sword and the other uses a set of gloves." Jaune shared, being the one who actually fought against the bald librarian.
Then Cardin added his piece, "And also Bemaia can't have anything to do with Fred. He uses a gun and a power arm. Well, at least should have used a gun." He also added, painting an even worse picture.
"Hah... So we have literally nothing on them?" David asked, being one of the two who had the least experience with the members of team PBFF. Both Jaune and Cardin shook their heads. "Damn, it doesn't look good."
Percival then opened his mouth to word his thoughts. "We may have not seen this 'Fred' fight, but you two have seen his partners, no? If not in fighting styles, then find something in common in mannerisms, bad habits, or decision-making. If Francisco and Bemaia have something in common, it is only natural to assume that Fred will also share that 'something', seeing that they occupy the same team."
What Percival proposed was a very creative solution to a very complicated problem but with a wide chance of not working. It was something, however.
Cardin thought for a moment, reaching for the deepest parts of his mind and memories to draw a line between the two parallels, to no avail. Jaune, however, managed to find a solution. "Brutal Efficiency." That was what Jaune came up with. "Francisco and Bemaia, from what I have seen from their fights take the chances that offer the best rewards with the least risk available. I have seen them make a miscalculation during a fight only once. It was Francisco during his duel with Pyrrha, where he stood still thinking about his next step, likely..." But as he said it out loud, Jaune seemed to realize something dreadful. "No... This is a reach."
Everyone remembers that duel. It was the duel where a nobody with a katana made Pyrrha Nikos forfeit. To this day, almost nobody understands why the untouchable champion chose to throw in the towel. "What's a reach? Tell us." David urged Jaune.
Swallowing dryly, Jaune spoke. "After taking that blow by standing still, Francisco's chest received an open wound. That wound scared Pyrrha, deeply. 'Why would he not block it with Aura?' or 'Why did he stand there and take it?' were questions Pyrrha asked me..." Jaune glanced over his shoulder, looking at Fred only for a moment. "I thought it was just a human mistake, but now I think it was a scare tactic."
And as he recalled the occurrence, the more similarities he found. "I remember it well, Francisco took the blow without even flinching, said 'Sorry' for being so 'Careless', only to then dash into while bleeding all over." Jaune sighed, the task ahead of him seemed more and more impossible. "He must have realized, after getting shot, that Pyrrha was soft and decided to scare her into forfeiting... If that's the case, then they are fighting geniuses."
Jaune looked at his Crosea Mors, Francisco had cut through it like it was butter back then. "Merciless, relentless, and brutally efficient. That's what I can see in both Francisco and Bemaia. Fred is likely like that, too." Dread began to rear its ugly face.
The voice of reason, Percival, then attempted to save their despairing hearts using logic. "If they are like that, then there is nothing we can do to change it. However, if efficiency is his signature, we can exploit that." He said, pulling the boys' attention.
The leader of JNPR nodded, seeing the light once more. "Our key to victory depends on us creating a situation in which Fred makes a seemingly 'ideal' play, a bait of sorts."
Cardin picked up on what Jaune was getting at. "Ah, we 'force' him to make a move that we prepared for him, then we capitalize on the opportunity... Nice work, Jauney-boy." Jaune didn't know if he should be snarling or smiling at the comment.
"I am the smallest here. And I am also our only ranged option. It would seem optimal to target me first, no?" David's logic was sound, unclouded by despair. "Just make an opening, and he will exploit it to get me."
Percival's intentions of hope came true, however, it couldn't be that easy. "It would be too obvious, he will see it from miles away." The rapier user countered.
Jaune, however, shook his head in denial. "He won't see it coming, because of circumstance." He state, simply.
"Why is that?" Percival asked with genuine curiosity.
"Think about it. We are all here because we failed combat class, which focuses on one-on-one combat. We are all failures here." Jaune stated, validating David's plan at the cost of the team's overall morale. Percival looked to the side, avoiding any of the other boys' gaze, feeling ashamed of hearing that. "But, together, we can actually do this."
Upon hearing that last part, each of them shared a glance, then a quick nod.
They dissipated the circle and got into position.
The game was on.
Now Playing: God Shattering Star (Fire Emblem: Three Houses OST)
"Begin!" The doctor shouted, signaling the start of the match.
The party of four immediately got into formation. Fred watched, amused, as Jaune raised his shield in front, facing him. Cardin and Percival stood at the ready just behind him while David ran backward, into the far reaches of the arena. Fred couldn't help but chuckle with smug.
Jaune stood his guard, waiting for Fred to move, while Cardin and Percival waited for Jaune's call. Fred did not move, however. He stood still, not even bothering to get into a fighting stance, as his gloved hands hung below his hips.
Deciding to start the battle, Jaune shouted a command. "David!" Well, it's a name, but it was still understood as a command.
Hearing the sling spinning at high velocity, Fred knew what that command would entail, considering that the smaller man behind the group responded with a "Got it!" Suddenly, from a small between Cardin and Jaune, a precise and surprisingly fast stone was shot, aimed at the Librarian.
In response, using his left hand, Fred took hold of the wire on the index finger of his right hand, Fred extended the wire and used it like a whip to hit the stone out of the air.
His plan worked, but the stone trajectory did change with a surprising twist to it. "Huh." Fred watched as the wire cut the stone in half while in the air. Both halves of the stone completely missed him, each of them landed on the wall behind Fred and beyond the arena.
'The stone thrower isn't a problem, however...' Fred thought to himself, making a mental note, then pressed a small button on his right palm, pulling the extended wire back into the glove. 'Aren't these wires too durable and sharp? I should commend Francisco for his amazing work with these later.'
"Shit man. This is gonna be hard." David commented in the backline, reaching for another stone in his pouch.
Jaune swallowed. "Cardin, with me! Percival, do your thing! David, cover us!" Jaune ordered them. Percival gave a quick nod and suddenly disappeared out of thin air, Cardin huffed with dissatisfaction but obeyed nonetheless. The Jaune and Cardin both dashed into Fred, with Jaune on the front and Cardin right behind him, already lowering his great mace to the side and charging an attack.
Fred let some wire of his right glove out, and with the intention to test Jaune's defenses, he aimed for the boy's exposed head and let out a whip-like attack at the boy.
The shield of Crosea Mors did meet the whip in a loud 'CLANK', reminding everyone that those flaccid wires were, in fact, made of metal. The force of the attack stopped Jaune dead in his tracks, leaving a window of opportunity for Cardin to continue the charge.
Before Fred could punish Cardin for running at him, he heard an almost inaudible clicking of the heels, he heard a step being taken behind him.
Acting on instinct alone, Fred dived to the left. As he did, he looked backward to see a refined rapier standing right where he used to be. Percival, somehow, got behind him without him noticing.
Right before landing on the ground, he saw another stone, thrown and aimed directly at his face, approaching at a rapid pace. Fred extended his left arm touching the ground, and sliced the stone cleanly horizontally using his right glove.
The momentum that forced him to the left turned diagonal as his left hand acted as a lever, effectively throwing his legs upwards and making him upside down.
Knowing that Cardin's mace was coming, pushed against the floor and jumped in the air, a cloudy trail of dust followed. Cardin's horizontal swing missed by a strand of hair, dodged by Fred jumping.
Still in the air, Fred proved his acrobatic skills by spinning in the air and landing gracefully on his feet, bending them only slightly. The four regrouped since their frontal assault failed.
"What the hell was that?!" Cardin was the first to voice his indignation. "We are not that far apart, right?!" Percival was completely out of breath, his face showed confusion, rage, and curiosity. Mostly confusion thought. "How did he know I was there? Nothing should be able to see me when I use my semblance, then how?" David said nothing and simply loaded his sling with a Dust Crystal this time. Fred couldn't see the color it's color.
Jaune had his shield arm trembling with a familiar feeling. "He is not as strong as Francisco, but is definitely more skilled." A silver lining, sure, but it didn't help them in any way shape, or form. "But his actions proved our theory right. He will do the ideal move, always." Jaune said with a proud smile on his face.
The librarian, in a stark difference from the four, opened and closed his gloved hands. "Hmm... I still have to get used to them. I could be performing better." His words, while aimed to taunt his enemies, did hold truth. He had not once tested this weapon against actual opponents, so this was truly his first time using the weapon.
"You've gotta be kiddin' me!" The ginger brute said, his grip on the mace getting tighter.
Unlike before, when the four tried to rush Fred down, the librarian was the one to take the initiative this time. Fred let wire out of each finger, enough for them to hit the floor and then some more. Jaune was quick to throw himself in the front once again, raising his shield.
From the backline, another projectile was sent out, aimed for Fred's head. "Have at you!" David shouted, his increased hiving more 'humph' to the attack. In turn, not even bothering to block or parry the attack, Fred lazily tilted his head to the left. The yellow crystal zipped by his head, making his hair stand up slightly.
Fred chuckled a bit, nodding to himself. "So, you're the weakest link, hm?" The librarian said wearing a smug look, directed at David. "I'd suggest you drop your... sad excuse of a weapon and leave, but I suppose that's not something you can do, is it?"
A bead of sweat ran down David's face. Jaune glanced at Percival, a subtle order he noticed. "We're not giving up." The smaller man said, loading another ammunition into his sling. "And we'll wipe that smirk right outta your face!" David finished, slinging yet another projectile, which was easily dodged.
"Not like that, you won't." Fred teased, taking another step forward and ducking under another Dust crystal. This time, an explosion was heard behind him, but Fred couldn't bother to look at it.
Jaune's face was serious, but inside he was as anxious as a man could be. 'He didn't seem to notice that Perci used his semblance again... He's underestimating us.' He swallowed and stood his ground, waiting for the librarian to attack. 'Percival should be close enough to him to strike a blow, after which Cardin will take that opportunity and wail on...'
The impromptu leader of the party of four looked to the side, where Cardin should have been. 'Cardin will...' Those words bounced inside Jaune's head. 'Cardin will get impacient.' A realization that came too late.
Jaune watched as his red-haired partner dashed into the enemy, Fred's smile widened with each step of the brute. "Cardin, wait!" But his words fell on deaf ears. "David, stall him!" Jaune cried another command, forcing his legs to move to try and salvage Cardin's reckless behavior.
The leader of Team CRDN, running at Fred as he was, jumped in the air while holding an oversized mace up high. "Stand, still!" He shouted. Cardin's arc was surprisingly high, the top of his head at the jump's apex easily reached the four-meter mark. He made it look as though he had been practicing this move.
It would have been a very powerful and devastating attack against a Grimm, however, surprising no one, Fred ducked under the ginger as he flew past him, but not before throwing his left hand upwards, as Cardin passed by, catching the tip of the mace with the wires. He tugged on it, making Cardin lose his balance mid-air, and making him fall on his butt.
"HAAA!" Jaune roared, swinging his sword at the librarian with the expectation of catching him off-guard. Fred spun around Jaune's vertical swing, dodging it effortlessly and ending up behind the blond boy.
With his left-hand wires still caught on the great mace, Fred reeled them back to him, the speed of said reeling was unexpected by both parties. Cardin had subconsciously let go of his weapon after falling on the ground, so the mace was lifted up the ground and brought towards Fred.
Jaune, who stood in the weapon's path, had little time to react and even lesser reaction speed. The head of the mace hit Jaune square in the face, forcing his body backward, and planting the back of his head on the ground. The feeling was familiar to Jaune, being hit in the face by that mace. His aura blocked the attack.
As the mace got into Fred's reach, the wires seemed to untangle themselves. Fred caught the weapon, and without wasting any time, struck the projectile slung at him with the mace, effortlessly parrying it.
"Hum." Fred held the mace with some degree of interest. It was definitely too heavy to use it with just one hand like Cardin could. "Oh well." Fred shrugged, grabbing the weapon with both hands and gazing at the area outside of the arena, his intent was to throw it out and completely disarm Cardin.
It then, right when he committed to the movement of throwing the weapon outwards Fred heard that same fait step behind him. His body tensed when he realized his mistake, he forgot about Percival's semblance. He did manage to spin in place to face Percival but did not react in time to block the attack. No, that wasn't true, Fred did have the reaction to block the rapier, but the mace proved too heavy for him to make such an agile movement. He felt a sting on his chest.
Percival's strike had found purchase. Before Jaune had any time to commemorate, the duelist reeled back his rapier and struck Fred once again, this time on his left shoulder. Fred tried to block, but his movements were too slow with Cardin's mace on hand.
After being struck twice Fred noticed something; Percival's attacks lacked any real force, they were precise but not powerful. Fred grinned. Wordlessly, the librarian swung the mace horizontally, uncaring for any retaliation from Percival's rapier.
The boy did not have the reaction speed to dodge or activate his semblance in time, the mace hit Percival directly on his left side. His arm bent against the weight of the attack and his aura flared up to absorb it, but it wasn't enough. Percival's lighter build was sent flying and out of the arena.
"Percival is out!" Doctor Oobleck shouted.
One down, three more to go. Fred was finally able to do what he originally wanted to, throw the mace outside of the arena. Dodging yet another stone, Fred launched the mace with all his might. "Hmph!" He struggled but managed to send it far away, enough for it to be impossible for them to recover it.
Outraged, Cardin yelled from the other side of the arena. "Dude, can you at least TRY to hit him?!" his increased tone was directed towards David. The smaller man did not respond to the provocation, choosing only to take a deep breath.
Fred's mood could not get any better than this. "I'm sorry, it's just that ranged attacks just don't work against competent opponents." Fred let out a taunt of his own, also targeting David.
David sighed. "So I've noticed..." He gritted his teeth, fortunately, what Fred said had but a semblance of truth, but the fact remained that Fred had yet to be hit by David's attacks.
So he decided to mix things up a bit.
Loading a red Dust into his sling, David did not begin to spin it in place, instead, he approached Fred with fire in his eyes. "Oh? So you decided to let go of the ranged advantage? Sure, go ahead." Fred taunted.
Wasting no time with needless banter, Jaune and Cardin both dashed towards the librarian. "He's most efficient at Mid-Range, rush him down!" Jaune blurted out, currently running at Fred.
He had taunted them enough. The librarian's smirk vanished as he lowered his posture. He was once very casual about the fight, now he bent his knees and leaned forward, ready to pounce on anyone who dared to approach.
Closest to him was David, who was promptly ignored. 'He's no threat.' Fred assessed, moving his eyes to the other two. He knew Jaune's skills and fighting prowess, he was also a non-target.
Which left only one other.
Turning his back to David, Fred tunnel-visioned on Cardin and dashed at him.
David did attempt to punish Fred's blunder of turning his back He brought his right fist down in an attempt to stop the librarian, but found no purchase. Fred was already on his left side.
The ginger brute tried to swipe him away with his left hand, but due to his bigger frame, the sluggish movements his armor provided, and Fred's lower stance, he simply couldn't hit him as Fred practically ran circles around him.
Jaune even tried to help by blocking Fred's path and limiting his escape options, perhaps trying and hit him, but the librarian's agility proved to be too much as he bounced off of Jaune's chestplate with a kick. The kick wasn't particularly strong, but it was enough to have Jaune off of balance and make him fall down.
"Stay!" The brute tried to land another punch, to no avail. "Still!" He commanded, but Fred wouldn't listen.
David too, tried but failed. His sling in close quarters required him to swing it in very wide arcs should he wish to maximize the damage dealt, and if he did that, Cardin would definitely be hit. And since Fred was so close to Cardin and Jaune, there was no way he'd throw anything at them.
Eventually, Fred reeled the wires back, tensing them. The few meters that fell onto the ground, returned at a staggering pace, all while getting snatched in Cardin's armor and tangling into each other. The boy didn't have time to react before he hit the ground face-first, his arms and legs effectively bound by the wires. Fred snapped the wires that bound Cardin and kicked him in the stomach while he was down. "Shit!" Cardin grunted.
The librarian stood over the leader of Team CRDN, resting his right leg on top of him, and observing the two remaining combatants. Fred looked down on his gloves, its wires were gone, currently tying Cardin up. "A minor setback." He muttered having effectively no weapons.
Next on the chopping block was either Jaune or David.
"He lost the wires!" Jaune shouted, relieved that his opponent lost his main offensive option.
Fred sighed, staring directly at Jaune. "That's the thing you don't understand, blondie~" Fred hummed, giving Cardin a satisfying kick to the gut. "Oof..." The one being kicked grunted. "To be part of the control team is to be better than everyone else."
Jaune was quick to connect the dots. "And just before we began, you said you were the leader of that..." He swallowed. Jaune knew of Fred's ego, especially when he had given him advice on how to properly approach women, but this? To call himself 'Better than everyone else' is... Absurd. "Not even Weiss says that."
The librarian tugged on the finger of his right glove, pulling it off. "Of course, she doesn't." Fred clarified, "Because that would mean she's better than me." He finished, throwing his glove with sudden grace and precision whilst not even looking at the target.
"Ahk!" David staggered back, being suddenly hit by a leathery glove directly in the face. "What in-" Jaune cringed at both the comment and the left gut punch that followed the glove.
David staggered back, holding his stomach in pain. 'How did he close the gap so quickly?!' His mind asked, and the only response he got was a right hook to the side of the face. His Aura flared up in response to absorb the blows, but it did not lessen the pain of being punched in the face.
The last nail in his coffin was an elbow directly to the nose.
David's aura did block it, but the force his head absorbed was more than enough to shake his brain the wrong way, knocking him out cold on the floor. "Luckily for him, there wasn't much of a distance between his head and the floor. Comparatively speaking, of course." Fred taunted the already unconscious boy on the floor.
Doctor Oobleck then announced once again; "David is out! I repeat, he is out!"
Jaune felt shivers run down his spine as Fred's undivided attention fell on him. His hands that held onto his sword and shield trembled. Was this, excitement? Fear? Likely the latter. Jaune only managed to calm his nerves once he realized something about his bound partner.
"Hmph!" Cardin's muscles bulged outwards, straining against the wires that bound him. Not even in his sorry state did Cardin give up. While Jaune was there, trembling in his boots, Cardin was trying to push past his limits and break free.
A wave of hope washed over him. The hope of failing combat class. The hope of not failing his teammates. The hope of winning this fight.
Then, came a voice most familiar. One he heard before, but Francisco, or rather, his friend helped silence it. A voice he couldn't give two shits about.
"As if." He scoffed, looking at Fred and ignoring the voice. "All battles are first won or lost, in the mind." His eyes shimmered with hope. His mind ran a thousand thoughts.
'It is clear that Fred is a difficult foe. However, he has lost his weapon. David and Percival lost because of my poor leadership, so it will not happen again. Despite me having my Crosea Mors on my side, overreliance on them has proved to be a mistake against him. He has adapted to fight with Cardin's weapon, and now he has adapted to fight without any weapon. I must do the same. I must show resolve to face him.'
He glanced back at Cardin. 'As futile his efforts might appear at first, even the sturdiest rock will crack against the consistent currents of a relentless river. I know you can be that river, Cardin.' The wires began to show wear after so much effort put in by Cardin.
Jaune was quick with his movements. He sheathed Crosea Mors, untied the knot that tied the scabbard to his left arm, and threw his family heirloom to the side. 'I won't rely on it, I can't. Fred is adept at fighting armed opponents, and so am I, by doing this, I shall even the playing field.'
This action surprised even Doctor Oobleck. "Oh? So this is what you've chosen, Jaune?" His professor said, receiving no answer from Jaune.
And so, with a still trembling smile, Jaune raised his fists with determination. "This is a fight we can win." He declared, his eyes shining with fervor. His partner did not vocalize a response, instead, he grunted even louder against his bounds.
The librarian, on the other hand, couldn't help himself. "So, you've found some half-baked courage to face me?" Fred decided to play along, raising his hands. "Funny. Pyrrha would love to see you right now."
Jaune did not respond, he knew that answering Fred's taunting was a mistake David committed before. Instead, he walked up to Fred as ready as he could ever be.
The librarian was the first one to throw a punch to test Jaune's guard, and right as Jaune caught his left fist, Fred punished with an uppercut to the gut. His aura blocked the blow, but the pain was still the same. He had to endure it.
Reactively, Jaune held his stomach in an attempt to minimize the pain, only to receive a right hook in the face.
He noticed the pattern, so Jaune powered through the pain and tackled Fred to the ground. Jaune's bigger size and weight were sure to contribute to a battle on the ground. Or so he thought.
As soon as the two hit the ground, Fred immediately hit his head with his elbow. When he noticed that it wasn't enough to knock Jaune out, he hit him again.
And again.
And again.
Jaune's Aura reserves were vast, but not vast enough to take that many blows with no trade back, not to mention how his head seemed to spin with every elbow hit. As his vision began to get blurry, Jaune finally managed to ground himself and get hold of Fred's smaller waist.
In a swift action, he lifted the librarian with all his might and suplexed him face-first into the concrete floor below.
Jaune quickly let go of his opponent and jumped back to his feet, backing away from Fred. Checking his scroll, Jaune noted that his Aura just reached the halfway point, the beginning of the 'yellow zone'.
Fred on the other hand, got up seemingly unbothered by the attack. Casually standing up, and wiping away the dust off of his uniform.
Jaune could not this get to his head, so he blamed it on Fred'd inhuman composure and poker face, and not without cause because he remembered well Francisco shrugging off shots that pierced through his shoulder like it was nothing.
Glancing over at his bound partner, it seemed like his morale was not as inflated as Jaune's, having given up on breaking free. Cardin now rested his head on the floor, panting heavily from how much strength he output, to no avail.
Still, hope was not lost. Just from this small exchange, Jaune had managed to damage Fred quite badly. His reserves took quite the blow too, but he cared little. 'I'm still on Yellow, I can still do this.' That was his coping mechanism.
Unfortunately, or fortunately depending on who you are, a bell tolls loudly.
'It's lunch break, which means that...'
Before Jaune could finish his thought, the Doctor finished it for him. "It was a marvelous display of skill and resolve, students! But I'm afraid you will have to leave this duel unfinished for now. Academy rules dictate that all enrolling students have their lunch at the right time unless unable to." He said, picking up both Cardin and David, each in one hand, and zipping past the remaining duelists to god knows where likely the infirmary.
Percival, who had watched every second of it, placed a hand on Jaune's shoulder before giving him a nod. He left without saying a word to the boy.
Jaune looked down to his feet. What was this feeling? It was definitely something new. Anger? Relief? It felt like his back was itching and he couldn't quite reach it like he was about to take a bite out of a cake only for someone to take it away.
He was left... unsatisfied.
"Great work at the end there. Looks like your hard work is finally paying out. Keep it up and you'll reach the rest of us in no time!" Fred offered some kind words to the boy, despite moments earlier calling his resolve 'Half-baked'.
"Yeah. Thanks." He said dryly, as something started to build up inside of him. Something indescribable.
The sun was beginning to set over Rubica. There was a thing in the air, around the small city, an oppressive eerie feeling of sadness shared by everyone.
A murder has taken place, of a huntsmen no less. There are many attempts at a huntsman's life, but you could count the amount of success of those attempts on a single hand.
As such, for those extreme cases where a huntsman becomes the victim, the local authorities usually stand clear of such cases. Too much danger involved, they say. So they have to request a huntsmen academy to contact and dispatch a team of huntsmen to take care of the mess.
One singular huntsman enters the crime scene, and with him is a singular policeman.
The body is still there. Untouched. Outstretched for the world to see. Impaled in a dried-up tentacle-like thing that protruded from the sand below.
His funeral procession already happened out of respect for this man, yet his body was not moved.
"Why is he still up there?" The huntsman asked, his voice drenched in apathy.
"The team responsible for the field autopsy couldn't get to him. They say he'll attack anyone that comes too close." The cop explained.
The huntsman did not appear too happy with that explanation. "Ha..." He exhaled loudly. Placing his hand inside his gray coat, the huntsman pulled out a flask with a practiced movement. "This won't be easy... Nice gig you got me, Oz." He said, opening the flask and taking a swing off the flask.
The cop looked visually distressed by the drinking. "You shouldn't do that, not until you've finished your work here." Instead of listening to the cop, he calmly took hold of a stone and swiftly threw it at the body.
In response to the stone, a blur snatched the rock before hitting the corpse, as though it was protecting it.
Neither could see what happened, but the huntsman could give an educated guess. "See that? A hole appeared in his arm. Whatever did it to him, is still inside."
The cop staggered back. The stone was neatly sliced in half on the sand below. "Ha." He let out a stressed laugh. "And you still want to drink in the face of that thing?"
The huntsman sighed as anger began to boil inside him. How dare this guy question him? "I'll do whatever I want!" He snapped, startling the cop. "And you, Coppo, is going to ask Ozpin for more people! Trained. People."
The cop took a few steps backward before realizing what the huntsman told him to do. "Uh, I'll go do just that!" He said, before turning around and leaving.
Storing the flask back into his coat, the huntsman shouted on the last order for the cop. "Say it's for Qrow! He'll understand!"
Next up: Mandatory beach episode.