So, my nephew is staying with me "for a few months" in his own words after his pub and home burnt down. I'm mostly fine with but he then led with "—but I'm not paying lodge or anything" and that's annoyed me lol.
I probably wouldn't have asked him to if he just came over, but now that he's presumed he's staying at my expense, I feel an urge to make him contribute.
Chapter 10
The peaceful countryside moving further into the kingdom did a lot to hide the overall tension. Though Vale had been dragged into the war by its continued support of Atlas, there hadn't been too many open battles on Valean land. Therefore, it wasn't the war-torn and ravaged hellscape Jaune had imagined it would be. Forests and fields remained pristine and rife with greenery and wildlife, and dirt roads were empty of trundling tanks and marching infantry.
That was not to say there weren't signs here and there, however. Empty villages – not burnt down or bombed out, but just up and abandoned by their former owners. Jaune camped in one small village that was no more than eight or so homes. The insides had been scraped clean, suggesting the occupants had up and left rather than been driven out. Perhaps they felt safer heading to the city, or maybe too many of them were drafted for the remainder to keep the small hamlet running.
It made for a convenient place to stop and rest regardless, and Jaune set a fire in the stove of one of the homes and used it to cook a meal. The wooden cabin was in good condition and warm as night crept in, and though the generator had been stripped of dust when its owners left, there were still a few candles in the drawers that he used to provide some light in the small but cosy interior.
A family must have lived here, perhaps a married couple with one or two children given the two bedrooms. It wouldn't have been a rich life, but it would have been peaceful. Just them, their neighbours, and the small farm plots outside that had been left fallow. It felt a shame for it to be like that, but if the father or the sons had been drafted then the rest of the family might have wanted to go with them to Vale. He hoped they had both made it safely, and that they were still together now.
With little to do but meditate and rest, Jaune removed his scrolls and checked them over, meticulously cleaning them of dust and muck from where the villagers before had tossed them into the dirt. That work done, he trained with push-ups and squats, then jogged about the outside of the house to get his heart pumping before retreating back inside to practice some kata.
His training had suffered since Master Ren's demise, but it almost had to given he would have trained for hours and hours before, and now needed to travel. He didn't want to let it go to waste like the fields had here, however, so decided to stop and spend a day at the old farmstead, just to train and gather hits wits and mind.
I will only become lost if I rush from destination to destination, he thought to himself, reciting Shu Ren's old lessons.
An empty mind would let him see the world more clearly and there was nothing quite like physical exercise to accomplish that. After a good night's sleep, Jaune committed the day to sparring with himself outside the home, mimicking the movements Shu Ren had taught him as he imagined a shadowy figure serving as his opponent. At one point, the shadow became a young woman out for his throat, and he paused in the spar to take a deep breath.
There was no telling what her reasons for hating him were without a chance to sit down and talk with her. All he could do was move onward and keep to his own purpose, which would require him to get stronger. He had not been enough to face off against Tyrian before, and locating the scrolls would be meaningless if he lacked the capacity to best their new owners.
Not for the first time, Jaune's eyes strayed to the sealed scrolls. The immortality-level skill he had used in desperation could well have killed him, but there were foundation level scrolls among them, and those were meant for beginners like himself. Master Ren had warned him of the dangers of them, but such warnings were not meant to scare him away, only to make him aware of the danger of recklessly attempting that which he was not ready for.
Even then, his mind made up, Jaune stopped and meditated on it as he had promised. He needed strength to best Tyrian and his allies, but was this the correct way? He considered other avenues, of self-improvement and tuition under others, and slowly discarded them one by one. Only when he was certain that no motivation other than logic drove him did he open his eyes, stand, and approach the scrolls once more.
The incarnation and immortality level scrolls were set aside, too dangerous to risk, and the meditation level scrolls joined them. Those he could potentially read without risk, but it made more sense to start from the beginning. Foundation. Taking a deep breath, Jaune set the four foundation scrolls before him, each wrapped with a green ribbon. They were smaller than their fellows, and he imagined much of that was due to there being less need for risk assessment. The Demonic Gu Soul Technique had to cover so much of poisons and the risks of them that these did not.
Jaune read them carefully before picking one up. Iron Limb Training, it read, and it was the word "training" that drew his eye. Something he could practice and improve on, and that felt a lot less worrying than a name like Demonic Gu Soul. It was also, he believed, a rather simple name for what he expected would be an obvious goal – to make your limbs as hard as metal via the use of aura.
And he was correct.
"I'm glad to see not all techniques have such flowery names," he mused out loud. Master Ren would have found it amusing as well.
The scroll featured many diagrams, with dots and notes highlighting the most important meridians for the techniques, and how to use them both in the arms and the legs. Interestingly, it posited that the technique was only capable with the forearms – elbow to wrist – and with the shin – knee to ankle. This was due to the tight arrangement of meridians in those areas, compared to the larger stretches of open space in the thigh and upper arm.
It would have been nice if the instructions were as clear as "two plus two equals one" but the scrolls didn't work that way. They were barely understood ways of manipulating aura penned by an incredibly select number of people to actually master them. Explaining something only you understood to someone who didn't wasn't easy, and the masters of ages past obviously hadn't been known for their penmanship, at least when it came to written instructions.
What Jaune got was a lot of "feels like" and "aim for something like this" and then a whole lot of interpretation and empty space when it came to how to do just that. And, like any good food recipe online, there was a lack of specific detail. "Use your aura to strengthen your skin" became akin to "add a dash of spice" in both its vagueness and lack of helpfulness.
The answer, therefore, was probably something about each individual being different and the masters knowing they couldn't give a one-size-fits-all solution. It was to be his job to translate their basic ideas and the ultimate goal, and to find a way to make that work. Perhaps that was even to be part of the process of improving as a person. If he only learned how to do this one thing he would be one-dimensional but learn the process behind it and he could apply it to other concepts in the future.
"The key difference looks to be in how the aura feels and interacts with the world," Jaune said aloud, somehow finding that speaking the words helped him focus. "Normal aura works by reinforcing the body but sits atop the skin like a forcefield." That was why huntsmen could get away without torn clothing. "This technique wants aura to sift between the molecules on my skin and reinforce them, almost like chainmail."
So, by hardening his skin rather than creating a shock-absorbing forcefield on top of it, his skin should theoretically be hardened to a consistency like metal. Understanding that was only the first step to learning it, and the first of many to mastering its use in combat. It took him hours to circulate his aura through the meridians of his left forearm without making his aura appear over his skin, and even when he managed that at last he hadn't turned his skin to metal. His aura was simply lower down, maybe protecting him from a deep cut reaching muscle but now no longer protecting his skin.
But the theory was there and what he needed now was practice. It was going to take however long it was going to take for him to grasp it, and all he could do was commit time each day to its practice.
/-/
It was late in the afternoon when he noticed them. Jaune would have loved to say he sensed them coming or heard their footsteps on grass in the wind, but the reality of it was that the farmstead lay in the middle of a lot of empty farmland for obvious reasons, so it was easy to see the approach of two people from a great distance.
An older woman and a child, a girl around eight or so, with the woman carrying the child and looking ready to drop at any moment. They had nothing with them but the clothes on their back and a small teddy bear clasped to the child's chest. She looked too old to need it, but he could only assume she'd been through something harrowing.
Jaune brought his hands down in front of him and let out a breath, releasing his strict aura control to let his aura flow back naturally through his meridians and deep into his body there it resided when not in use. The pores up and down his forearms itched painfully, an unexpected consequence of the Iron Limb Technique that he hadn't been warned about. Presumably, he'd done a little damage to his skin while trying to learn it. Luckily, the skin was shed and regrew continuously, so he didn't expect it to be a problem. Just something to keep an eye on.
I must be brute forcing it too much to damage my arms. I'd best not use this in a real fight until I'm more competent with it. He shook his hands to clear the pins and needles and then held them straight at his side to appear less of a threat. These two must be refugees. Did they come from the village on the coast? I abandoned the others but I shouldn't judge these ones unfairly.
"Welcome," he called, raising a hand in greeting and trying to look non-threatening. He'd left his jian in the farmhouse so the strap wouldn't distract him while he was trying to focus, so that probably helped. If any Grimm had approached, he'd have seen them with time enough to duck back inside and collect it. "Are the two of you safe? Do you need medical attention?"
"We're—" The woman coughed, a racking, hoarse sound. "We're fine."
"You don't sound fine, ma'am."
"I'm just tired. Exhausted." The woman lowered herself down to set her child on the ground and wobbled on the way back up. Lightheaded too, by the looks of things. "Please, sir, I know we're unannounced but could we stay the night in your home? I... I can repay you in whatever way you please."
Jaune tried hard not to think on what she meant. "This isn't my home. It's abandoned and I'm merely resting here myself before moving on. I'm sure the original owners would be happy to see their home used to shelter you, however. Come on inside. I have food and a warm fire."
Their relief was clear and he helped them inside, watching as they both collapsed by the fire burning away in the stove. He moved to collect some spare clothes out his packs, the originals from the owners of the home long having been taken away. They would be too big for the girl, and too short around the chest for the woman, but they were dry and could be wrapped around them like gowns.
When he cooked them some simple food, they devoured it ravenously before remembering to thank him, and he waved it off, asking what happened. The woman bit her lip and looked to her daughter, then back at him.
"There's a bedroom there for you and your mother," said Jaune, pointing. "Why don't you go sleep there."
The child looked to her mother, who nodded. "Do as the nice man says, sweetheart."
Reluctantly, the child headed inside.
"My name is Jaune Arc." He bowed from the waist, sitting cross-legged a short distance from the woman. Not close enough to feel threatening, and with his jian over by the wall. "I didn't get your names."
"Anna, and my daughter is Celeste. We... We used to live in a nearby village."
"Was it attacked by the White Fang?"
"No. Grimm." Not the one on the shore, then. "We knew it was coming but our preparations weren't enough. Not enough people to defend us. My husband was drafted last year. Almost all our weaponry was requisitioned as well. We were helpless."
History repeated itself. Like Ansel, their village had been left helpless. At least Celeste had escaped with her mother, unlike he with his.
"I'm sorry to hear that. You managed to escape then?"
"We were outside when it happened picking berries. The Grimm didn't catch us. Everyone else is..." Her eyes closed. "They never stood a chance. We ran. What else could we do? I told Celeste we'd find her father in Vale." She bit her lip. "But he died two months ago. I haven't known how to tell her."
"He died...? I hadn't thought open combat had happened yet."
"I don't know how it happened. All we received was a letter. There was a number we could call but the people stonewalled me. It's all just to pretend they care. I'm not sure if he was sent out against the White Fang, Grimm, or if he wasn't killed in training. No one ever finds out." Her ragged breath suggested she was too exhausted to cry, and that she'd let it all out long ago. "I don't have any plans. I just hoped we could find our way to the nearest settlement. Village, town, the city of Vale. Anywhere that would accept us."
"You're in luck, then. I'm travelling to a nearby village as part of my journey. You're welcome to join me." Their story reminded him of his too much to do otherwise, and they were innocent in all this. Nothing like the fishermen who had tried to kill him to steal his belongings. "I was planning on leaving tonight but I can let you both rest a day."
Anna bit her lip. "Are you sure...?"
"Yes." He bowed his head. "I'm a proficient hunter and know my way around herbs and berries. I also have enough food on me. Feeding you won't be difficult and an extra day's training here will be a good thing for me as well."
Her eyes slid down his body and then away to the wall where he knew his jian lay. She looked equal parts afraid and elated. "Are you a huntsman?"
"No."
"A soldier, then?"
A deserter, he was sure she wanted to ask, for there was obviously no reason a conscripted soldier would be out here on his own otherwise.
"Neither. I'm a martial artist, but I'm capable of defending myself and the both of you so you don't need to worry."
It wasn't like she had much choice other than to trust him, but she nodded anyway, biting her lip again and looking away, and then teasing herself closer to him. Her hand reached out, fingers anxiously touching his.
"If there's any way I can repay you..."
Jaune took his hand away. "There's no need for that," he said, gently. "You don't need to buy my services."
The woman recoiled and flushed, shame and self-hate warring across her face. He didn't comment on it, feeling it would make things worse. It was obvious she still harboured uncertainties about him and his character – he was a stranger after all – and she must have been thinking that she should do whatever she had to in order to make him want to keep her and her daughter around.
He wouldn't respect her any less for offering herself up for her daughter's sake, but he also wouldn't take advantage of her like that. Little wonder she wanted to send her daughter away for this conversation.
"You're welcome to the room with your daughter, Anna. You look like you could use the rest. If you wake before me—" Which he felt was unlikely given how tired she looked, "—then don't hesitate to help yourself to my supplies. We won't run out just because the two of you got hungry."
"..." Anna nodded. "Thank you..."
/-/
Anna was no stranger to the misery of living in Remnant, but waking up in a bed with her daughter in her arms was a brief ray of sunshine. The bed was old and falling apart, and the sheets little more than borrowed robes from the odd man they'd stumbled upon, but the home itself was well constructed and warm from the fire. So much warmer than the world outside. Little Celeste was still fast asleep, at that age where she could merrily sleep twelve or more hours a day, especially on a school night.
Thoughts of school had her eyes watering. It was a reminder of the simple life that had been lost. Life itself had been a disaster ever since her husband was taken, and she could still remember their tearful goodbye, under the watchful and impatient eyes of the recruiters. They had taken away a third of the village, husbands, sons, even daughters. Anyone who was fit and of an age to hold a weapon.
There were times she wished they'd taken her and Celeste as well.
Sneaking out the bed, she buried Celeste under the man's robes and approached the door, teasing it open. The interior of the house was empty and quiet, the fire having died out. The door was closed but unlocked, and the man – Jaune – was nowhere to be seen. His sword remained, however, propped up against his pack as a clear sign he hadn't left them in the night.
Curious, she approached a ramshackle window and glanced outside, quickly finding him in the garden before the house. He had taken his top off and was going through some exercises, some martial arts dance presumably meant to help him memorise the movements. He moved quickly and explosively, bursting forward in short movements, not unlike the long and graceful dances she'd seen on movies. His felt much more real, stopping and starting, lunging and retreating. The suddenness of it felt more suited to a real fight.
The sweat rippling of his lithe form brought a hot flush and shameful memories of the night before where she'd offered herself to him. There'd been no attraction, of course. Even if she could now admit he was handsome, at the time she'd barely been able to see straight. All she'd known was that this stranger was armed, undoubtedly stronger than her, and that he might very well decide they were burdensome.
Letting him have his way with her would have been a cheap price to pay if it meant him looking after her daughter and delivering them to the nearest village. What else did she have to offer but her body, with her home destroyed and every belonging lost. They were homeless, dependent on the kindness of a man who could have been a deserter or hardened criminal for all she knew.
And kindness was in such short supply in the world of late...
Recalling his words and her own hunger, Anna gingerly opened his pack and procured a meal, cooked it on the dying embers and ate it in silence, then returned to the window. He still hadn't stopped, even when he was clearly exhausted. He must have been strong to travel on his own without fear. They'd been lucky to find him.
Time to make yourself useful, Anna, and to apologise while you're at it!
Taking a flask of water from his pack, she slid to the door and stepped out into the warm sun and cold air. It was a cruel juxtaposition and she shivered. The moment her feet touched the grass, he paused and turned to her.
Had he really heard that...?
"Water," she said, holding it up. "I thought you might like some, sir."
He smiled, then, sweaty and awkward, bowing in that odd way of his. Was he from Mistral? He didn't look it, and travel wasn't so common with the war taking place in the area. Maybe his family had moved from there before it all started.
"Good morning, Anna, and please don't call me sir. Jaune is fine. And thank you, that's very kind." He took the flask with two hands cupped beneath it, another odd mannerism that looked almost formal. He drank before handing it back to her in the same way. "How was your sleep? Has your daughter awoken?"
"Ah. It was good – and no. Celeste is still sleeping."
"She must be tired from her travels. Are you sure you should be up and about?"
"I need something to clear my head," she blurted out. "Is... Is there any way I can be useful?"
He clearly didn't want to answer that but she couldn't be left alone with her thoughts right now. That much, he seemed to understand. And, thankfully, that she wouldn't be willing to move too far and leave her daughter with this man, as kindly as he'd been.
"There's a well just there," he said, pointing. "I don't suppose you could draw some water and fill some buckets. I was thinking to wash your clothes and mine as well. If we're here another day, we might as well make use of the chance to dry them in the sun. You and Celeste might want a bath as well."
That sounded just perfect and she moved to do just that, watching out the corner of her eye as he went back to his training. It calmed her to see him like that, not only because it reinforced the idea that he could protect them, but because it meant he was within sight. She didn't want to doubt him but Celeste was all she had left.
"Where do you come from?" she asked him, hoping he wouldn't be upset at the interruption.
"I lived in a village named Ansel a ways south from here, but it was destroyed by Grimm when years ago and I was the only survivor." Like themselves. Anna sagged. "I was saved by a good man who lived nearby, who taught me all I knew before he, too, died."
"I'm sorry."
"I'm not," he replied, shocking her. "Not for the latter half, anyway. I'll forever miss my family but the years I had with the man who saved me were some of the happiest of my life, and I wouldn't give them up. It taught me that even when things seem hopeless, there is always a light on the horizon. Your life isn't over until it's over."
Anna smiled faintly, more than aware a boy seven or eight years younger than her was lecturing her on not giving up. He was right, she supposed, but it was too little too early for such optimism in her mind.
"I'll keep that in mind when Celeste and I find somewhere to settle down. I'm not sure where will take us. I've heard that refugees aren't welcome in the city."
"Is that so?"
"Too many," she said. "The recruiters mentioned it. Only ever in passing, but we all got the feeling it was a warning that we shouldn't go to the city if anything happened. The White Fang are killing all they can, but that's also pushing villages nearby to abandon their homes and move to Vale for safety." Anna shrugged. "Maybe that was their plan from the start."
"Maybe it was. They're angry at Vale for joining the war but probably can't afford to fight two at once. This might be their way of giving Vale too many issues to deal with to try and make them bow out."
The war.
Such an awful topic for conversation and yet somehow at that moment relaxing. It was easier to talk about something far away than it was the Grimm that had killed everyone she knew. Even if the war had taken her husband, it didn't feel real. Like it was all some nightmare she'd wake up from any day now.
"What is it you're planning to do, Jaune?" she asked. "When you take us to the closest village. What next? Will you be settling down as well?"
She didn't mean it in the sense of trying to seduce him, not after her clumsy effort the night before, but simple curiosity. And maybe the vain hope they could help one another, even if she had so very little to offer.
"I'm afraid I plan to move on." He dashed that thought with a kind smile. "I have my own path I have to follow."
"I'm sorry for disturbing it, then," she whispered.
"My path is one with a destination but no strict deadline. The man who saved me would have wanted to help you both as well, so I'll do the same in his stead." He stopped his training and faced her, linked his palm to his fist and bowed again. "I promise you, Anna. I will see you and your daughter to safety, and I will ensure it is not to simply be left homeless and abandoned in some dark village." Her breath hitched. "You've been through enough."
Her throat bobbed and those treacherous tears she'd felt all dried up welled. "T—Thank you," she whispered. Even if he couldn't guarantee it, she'd thank him for the momentary comfort. "I... I should go cook food for Celeste. Do you... Do you need help gathering anything?"
"I chopped wood yesterday. If you want to, you can carry the sticks inside and into the fireplace again." Another task that wouldn't require her to leave her daughter, proving he knew and was doing it on purpose. "I won't roam far. We'll eat a good meal today, rest, and then head out again tomorrow when you and Celeste are rested."
"Yes. I... I'll get on that. Thank you again."
/-/
The day and night passed by in quiet, undisturbed by the Grimm who had undoubtedly been drawn to the scene of her village's massacre. "Misery loves company" was an old saying, and so was "Grimm love misery", combining the two into "Grimm bring company" in some minds. The ones who had killed her people would have released such terror that even more Grimm would come, which was often why no one ever survived.
Those that escaped like Anna and Celeste were usually caught by the second wave coming to investigate the source of such pain, and it hardly helped that survivors tended to give off negativity themselves. Grief and sorrow. They might as well be lit like torches in the dark to the foul monsters.
They were lucky, though he knew they didn't feel it. Celeste was quiet and subdued, meeting his eyes but never saying a word. She mumbled things under her breath when he handed her food, but it was obvious she was scared of him and he didn't blame her. Anna did her best to fill the home with conversation, but he encouraged her to prioritise her daughter.
To calm then, he unfurled the map and showed them where they were and their destination, then counted out the food so they could see there would be enough for all. He didn't mention that him carrying Celeste would make everything so much easier, and that travelling at a child's pace would slow them down. Neither were ready to hear it, and he hadn't been lying when he told her there was no deadline.
Yes, he wanted to bring Tyrian and his allies to justice, but they would never master the scrolls. They had proven themselves unable to the first time, with an easier one, and Jaune doubted their patience would have improved since then. It would have been convenient if they tried the Incarnation ones and killed themselves, but the scrolls were as harmless as they were useless to those without training.
Cinder simply couldn't understand or follow them, which meant she also couldn't make a mistake on them and harm herself. She'd need to know how to begin before something could go wrong.
So, he had time. Years if needs be.
Time enough to walk at a child's pace the following day, and to keep his impatience hidden behind a warm smile as he moved ahead of them and cut branches out their path. He talked of random things as he did, filling the air with noise so that they wouldn't feel the need to, and so that they could focus on their footing.
It was slow progress, torturously so, and only marginally faster once Celeste grew tired enough for Anna to carry her, because the girl wasn't weightless at eight years and Anna wasn't any faster having to hold her and move her own weight at the same time. But when both still flinched when he drew too near, he knew offering to carry the child would be a disaster. They might not refuse, and they might even make better time, but they'd both be terrified for the entire journey.
They might as well call the Grimm right to them.
In the end, it didn't matter. Whether it was a second or even third wave drawn to Anna's village or just pure bad luck, the Grimm found them. Jaune heard it first, but everyone heard them before they saw them. The Grimm cared nothing for silence and crunched branches and rotten logs underfoot, chuffing and growling loud enough to be heard a hundred metres away.
Celeste began to sob, and loud enough to also be heard. Though he couldn't sense what the Grimm could, Jaune could well imagine a coloured smoke coming up from her small body like a signal flare, all but screaming to the Grimm that they were there. Anna did her best to shush the girl, but it was far, far too late for that.
"Behind me," Jaune hissed, drawing his jian. He was confident he could take some Grimm, but to take them and protect these two was another matter. Desperately, he looked for a cave, rock, or anything he could put them on to keep them safe. The trees around them were no such help, thin enough that they'd be snapped by the Grimm. "You must stay away – let me fight them. I can handle them!"
A Beowolf, drawn by the crying, crashed into a nearby tree, knocking it over as it skidded like a dog chasing a ball – all filled with evil delight – teeth bared at the thought of biting down on a squeaky child.
It howled with mindless joy and lunged for them.
Anna screamed.
Jaune swore. He dashed in, leapt and slammed his heel down atop its head, diverting its flight downward with an aura-reinforced kick that delivered far more power than it should have. It was enough to slow its momentum so that its lunge only took it halfway to Anna and Celeste, and to daze it. Jaune twisted and plunged his jian down into the back of its spine, beneath the skull, and it went limp.
The howl had drawn more, however. Three at once, all Beowolves, some smaller. They burst out and attacked him at once, and he thanked his lucky stars they went for him and not them. Racing forward, he met them halfway, trying to make himself the main target at all costs. He swayed left of the lead one's claws and kept going to make the others crash into its back. A quick duck and a spin on one heel snapped the flat of his sole under its chin, and with aura flowing through the meridians on his thighs and legs, the impact was enough to cause a clap of thunder and shatter the beast's jaw entirely.
He felt it too, of course. The Iron Limb Technique would have been helpful at that point, for pain lanced down through his foot to his shin. It wasn't enough to rob him of mobility, however, and he danced back as the Grimm fell, then darted up onto its body before it could begin to disappear, using it as a springboard to vault up and over the second and third.
He landed behind them, and, importantly, drew their eyes away from Anna and Celeste. Yes, the Grimm were now between him and them, but they were mindless beasts and wouldn't turn their gaze away from the closest prey. He taunted them even further with a quick, probing jab toward the eye. He wouldn't dare stab there for the thin blade would get caught in the socket and either be wrenched out his hands or snapped, but, like any animal or person, the threat to the eyes made them recoil and then roar in fury.
Mindless aggression, he thought, quickly dodging their swipes and giving ground. The footwork was key, for their assault was so wild and violent that even a single stumble would mean being torn asunder. It's all over if they manage to pin me down. I won't have the strength to push them off, and all the aura in the world won't matter if they can keep going at me. I need to stay mobile, stay out their reach.
His pattern adapted, surrendering Sword Intent Style for a more debilitating method with tiny cuts to outstretched limbs and ligaments, while prioritising his own defence more. Death from a thousand cuts, although here it more realistically meant six or seven – less if he could catch the throat, but the way they alternated from hind legs to all fours through the fight made that difficult. Their throat was often underneath them, and it'd be a bad sign if he was down there on the floor.
Eventually, one of them began to slow, the one he'd been prioritising cutting apart. It tried to stand on its front left leg but the ligament finally snapped, sending it crumpling down in a startled heap. Jaune dodged the second and gave it a solid kick to the side to knock it a few steps away, then rounded on the wounded one, hopped over its claw and stabbed down into the back of its neck. It went down as quickly as the first, though not as easily. In the moment of calm, he quickly looked for Anna and Celeste.
They were watching, horrified, crying, Anna on her knees clutching Celeste close instead of running away. That was probably for the best because he couldn't defend them if they ran. Even so, they were alive.
And then he saw the fourth Grimm.
Late, or just not a part of the pack, stumbling by having sensed the fight and wanting to take part. It looked not to Jaune but to the mother and daughter, and his furious cry didn't avert its attention. The Grimm were mindless. It didn't care who was the bigger threat, only that there were two people closer to it that it had to kill.
It lunged for them with a roar.
With a quick rush of aura to his feet, Jaune lunged after it, arm outstretched.
BLAM!
The sound echoed like a gunshot, and that was because it was a gunshot. The Grimm recoiled some six metres from the pair, driven back by a bullet punching into its shoulder and shattering the bone. It sagged onto one side but reared back up to try and kill them. A second shot came, smashing into the other shoulder blade.
Jaune reached it a second later, leapt on its back and stabbed down, ending its sorry existence before it could rush them on its hind legs. He didn't question the shooter, nor his good fortune, only that he had to kill it.
"Jaune!" cried Anna. "Behind you!"
But he hadn't come chasing after it alone. Jaune cursed and turned, circulating his aura around his body. His jian had to be abandoned, lodged in a body that hadn't yet dissolved to nothingness. He made to dodge, only to realise it would land on Anna and Celeste if he moved.
The only choice was to not be budged.
Biting his lip, he forced his aura through the meridians on his arm and into his skin, attempting the Iron Limb Technique in the heat of the moment. Pain surged and his skin split, rivers of blood erupting from his body.
Shit!
He dug his feet in, instead.
"NOT TODAY!" howled a woman's voice behind him. Above him. Someone sailed overhead, bright yellow hair flying behind her like a curtain. She landed atop the Grimm's shoulders, brought both hands down onto its head like a jackhammer, then somehow unleashed a huge blast right into its face.
The force of it literally sent the Grimm flying back mid-air and allowed the woman to kick off in a backflip and land on the grass in front of him. She flicked her nose, glanced back with purple eyes and a roguish grin, then flashed a badge on an epaulet on her left shoulder.
Anna gasped. "A huntress!"
"At your service," joked the girl, who couldn't have been older than him. "Huntress apprentice Yang Xiao-Long at your service. And my lovely sister, of course. Don't worry, sir and ma'am. You're safe now I'm here."
Jaune would have corrected her but didn't have the energy. He sagged, bleeding arms hanging at his side as the aura withdrew from them. They would need to be dressed lest they become infected, but that was the least of his concerns. He'd almost failed Anna and Celeste, failing to anticipate more Grimm or to be good enough to dispatch the three sooner and get back to them. They might have paid the price had this huntress not been here.
These huntresses, he amended, as a girl in a red cloak with some limited military insignia came out the trees with a rifle. Two of them, and fortunate news for him and the family both. They'd been lucky this time, but they wouldn't always be. The answer, therefore, was simple.
He needed to train harder.
Next Chapter: 21st May
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