Here we go.

Chapter 20

"You're no longer under arrest."

Weiss Schnee finished reading the letter, folded it back up, and slipped it into a saddlebag on her horse. They were still in the clearing outside the village where he had been challenged, but the atmosphere was a little less tense. The rapier was whipped back, the flexible metal bending so much that it looked like it might snap. It did not, and Weiss sheathed it at her hip.

"Quick turnaround," Jaune couldn't help but say. "Do you normally make and withdraw accusations so swiftly?"

"There is a murderer here in the village and the only information I yet have is that the perpetrator was male, blonde and armed." Her pale blue eyes slowly dragged down his figure, as if to point out the obvious. "And I said you were under arrest on suspicion of murder. I did not say you would be charged with it."

That didn't excuse her jumping on him for it, but he could at least understand what drove her. And, with Mistral happy to closet itself up in its city, he supposed there was little to no law enforcement left. In the end, it hadn't been a great bother and he hadn't been thrown into a cell. Life was too short to hold grudges.

"I'll forgive it," he told her, ignoring the way she rolled her eyes. Obviously, she didn't require his forgiveness, but he gave it anyway. "But you accepted my innocence quickly."

"I recognise my sister's handwriting. Also, the letter is dated. The first murder would have happened on the day you and Winter reached Mistral, the second on the day this letter was written."

"Convenient."

"For you, perhaps." Weiss turned away from her horse and crossed her arms. "Not so for the people of this village living in fear. You shall help me."

Jaune blinked. "I shall...?"

Weiss grimaced and, with gritted teeth, said, "It would be appreciated if you could assist me..."

He got the feeling she didn't know how to say "please", or to ask for help. It would have been cute if not for the severity of the situation, and the fact that he had things he needed to do. The more he delayed, the further ahead his enemies got. "Why me? And what are you asking me to do?"

"You're a capable fighter according to Winter and, quite frankly, I have no one else." Weiss waved her hand at the village. "These are locals doing their best to live under this war we're trapped in, and Atlas' own soldiers are locked to the frontlines. Our huntsmen and huntsmen-apprentices such as I are spread thin dealing with Grimm roaming everywhere, drawn by the violence. To make matters worse, Mistral has withdrawn all infrastructure to the city, leaving us to deal not only with Grimm, but matters of law and order as well as food supply. The people would starve if not for us visiting, finding out what they need, and delivering supplies."

"Why isn't Mistral looking after their own people?"

"Good question. One we've been asking ever since the war began." Weiss scowled at him. "Now, if you're done asking me things I can't possibly know the answer to, I'd have yours. The killer could be anyone in the village and I can't trust any of them. You are, quite frankly, one of the only people here above suspicion. And one of the few I could trust not to die if you ran into the killer, at least according to Winter's praise which I trust is factual."

Jaune was beginning to wonder just how much Winter had said in that letter of hers. Weiss seemed a little too quick to trust him. "I can look after myself. However, I have somewhere I need to be."

"You're investigating something. Correct?"

So, Winter had written that out as well. It wasn't something he was keeping a secret but he'd have expected this letter to contain a lot more of I'm safe than listen to me talk about this person I met.

Either Winter had fallen in love with him and couldn't stop gushing, or she'd suggested Weiss try and get him on her side for whatever reason. Probably, because Atlas were still interested in what he could do.

Jaune wished he could believe the former.

"That's correct," he said, slowly. "My mentor was killed by some people in Vale. I've tracked them here, to an old mansion one of them grew up in."

Weiss smirked. "My duties involve many things, Grimm included, but I've found myself being tasked with law enforcement and detective work as you can see. Cleaning up after violent crimes and rooting out those responsible. Help me, and I'll accompany you to this location and help you. How does that sound? Generous?"

Very generous. Suspiciously so.

After she just told me how stretched thin she is, too. Jaune kept a neutral expression, for all intents and purposes considering her offer. It's no accident she went from accusing me to wanting to accompany me after reading that letter. Winter must have asked her to do so. The only question is whether she did that to genuinely help me out of gratitude for what I did, or if she was pushed into doing it to find out more about what I'm capable of.

No. That wasn't the only question. The biggest one, at least from his perspective, was whether having her assistance would be worth it to the point that he shouldn't care. Master Ren had taught him many things in those few years, but how to assess a crime scene was not one of them, nor how to find evidence amongst a potentially burned-out mansion.

"You say you've done investigatory work before...?"

Weiss' smile was tight. A thin line that showed little emotion in an otherwise beautiful face. And she was beautiful, if a little worn from days of hard work and riding. Her skin was dry and her hair tussled. It looked like she'd been in the saddle or on her feet for days.

"One of the reasons I was sent here is because I've shown more aptitude for rooting out criminals than others," she said, without boast. If anything, she sounded annoyed about it. "I'd much rather be fighting Grimm or Menagerie's forces, but we all have our parts to play." Under her breath, she added, "Or so I'm repeatedly told."

It was more experience than he had. All he'd been doing was trekking to Mistral and hoping he'd find information on them. He had no idea what to do once he reached the mansion and had just been planning to look around and hope for the best. Weiss might be able to take DNA samples, access databases, and use resources he couldn't. With a heavy sigh, Jaune gave in.

"What do you need me to do...?"

/-/

Weiss had taken over, or perhaps been granted, a small building in the village to use as her own. It was the former police offices as he'd been led to believe, but one that had been abandoned when a good portion of the village decided to flee the war. Some had gone to Mistral, others to Vacuo or Vale, becoming the refugees Jaune had been being so poorly treated back home. All told, almost half the village had vacated.

"Those who stayed were often those unable to leave," Weiss explained. "Elderly, sick, and those with young children. As such, they've been less able to take care of themselves. There are few who can look after fields and animals. What hasn't helped is deserters and bandits."

"From Atlas' army?"

"From both sides, honestly," Weiss said. "Faunus aren't immune to fear or greed, and I've had to deal with human and faunus alike who have abandoned their comrades. Sometimes, they even work together. Add into that mercenaries, with both sides paying well for anyone willing to help, and there are very few fit and able people who remain here. The rest have been drawn off to more lucrative lives."

"That explains why the place is so abandoned and poor, but not where these murders come in. What's caused those?"

"I couldn't say. I could guess," she said. "But that's dangerous. I can't afford to assume at a motive for fear of that colouring my investigation."

"I understand. But what reasons are on the table? If we were to list them all."

"Revenge, personal issues, greed, hunger, despair." Weiss shrugged her shoulders. "There are any number of reasons a person might do this, but I suppose what you're asking is whether this is a crime of passion or something premeditated."

"Is there a difference?"

"Of course. A drunk losing their temper and killing someone is no less than murder, but it's far less dangerous than a serial killer. A murderer can feel crushing guilt at what they did in a moment of madness and never commit a crime again."

"But you said two murders," Jaune stressed. "So, that means it's premeditated."

Weiss wouldn't commit. "Perhaps.

"Only perhaps? It seems obvious to me."

"Then you're not considering the possibility that there might be two killers."

Jaune sat back. He absolutely hadn't considered it, and now that she pointed it out he could see what a mistake that was. By assuming one culprit, he'd ruled out the idea of an unplanned crime, but if there were two then it could be different. It could be one person who killed in a drunken rage, and another who killed the first to avenge someone the first victim. The second killing could even be justice.

"You're right," he admitted. It didn't bother him to accept his mistake. In fact, he felt quite relieved by it. The fact Weiss had called him out went to show just how invaluable she might be at the Black family mansion. If he could miss this, he might have missed key evidence there as well.

On the contrary, Weiss didn't look best pleased with being right.

"This is why I keep getting lumped with these jobs. An analytical mind should be less of a burden. No matter." She shook her head, and Jaune got a feel for how exhausted she was by the way she had to steady herself with a hand on the table. "It still could be a single premeditated killer. The first death is what drew me here and happened almost a full week before my arrival. The second happened on the day before I got here."

"Does that imply planning, then? The killer had to know you'd be coming."

"Yes. Yes, it does. It does not prove it but it makes it more likely. The first victim was by all accounts a farmer. He had family here who were elderly and couldn't flee the war, so he stayed to look after them. The second was not initially local to the village but settled here after the war started. She was faunus but was apparently born and had lived in Mistral all her life. Her village had also experienced its share of refugees leaving, to the point it was fully abandoned, and so she came here looking for a new home. The locals, having many empty houses, were happy to welcome her since she was fit and able to work the fields, and didn't bring with her any dependents."

"I've done preliminary questioning of the people here and neither had any connection to one another from what I can tell. They knew of each other only in the sense of staying in the same village. The first was human, the second faunus, and the first's family assured me he wasn't racist. In fact, the village was quite clear that the faunus refugee had experienced none, and that she'd expressed multiple times how kind and welcoming everyone here was. Almost everyone agreed she loved the village and was well-liked by the locals, so I've tentatively ruled out this being a race-fuelled killing."

Jaune nodded. Weiss was obviously a lot more capable at this than he, and it made him wonder what use he was to be at all. Looking at her, maybe this "use" was to be in guarding her so she could get some sleep.

"When did you last sleep?" he asked.

"Two days ago," she admitted, bluntly. "The fact there was a death on the day before my arrival means the killer is active and aware of my presence. Letting my guard down to sleep..." A heavy sigh slipped out of her. "It hasn't been a simple matter."

He'd thought so. "I'm here now, so you should get some sleep before we continue."

"I appreciate the sentiment and I agree with it, but..."

"You don't know if you can trust me?"

"It's not that," she said, with a shake of her head. "Or not entirely. Winter vouches for you, and I doubt you're some wild psychopath to come here for your own means and then pointlessly kill me. It's more that we don't know who is doing this or what they're capable of. For all we know, this could be a deserting huntsman, or a group of bandits."

Jaune made an understanding sound deep in his throat. "You're unsure if I could fight them off."

Weiss nodded. "Yes."

It was a better reason than being suspected of harming her in her sleep, and understandable given she didn't know him from any random man on the street. Winter must have told of his exploits, but that was against reservist forces of Menagerie.

"You'll have to sleep eventually," he said. "Would you rather trek a distance from the village and make camp? That might be safer for us."

"No. That would have me worrying for the safety of the villagers instead. They are the ones who have been the victims thus far. I'll just have to risk it," she decided, reaching up and untying her ponytail. White hair, matted and tangled, fell into her hand, and she pulled it before her, running her fingers through it. "I've been in the saddle for days as it is."

"About that. Is horse riding common now?"

"Hmph." Her eyes closed, a deep sense of amusement radiating from her. "We've not regressed to the feudal era if that's what you're asking. It's just that mechanised vehicles are all being used in the war effort, and dust as well. Menagerie opened the war by striking at dust mines to cripple us. We have dust enough to fight them, but not enough to spare, so we must be frugal. Most of us are on foot, but my upbringing was... advantageous. My mother keeps horses and I learned to ride at a young age."

"It's your horse, then? From home?"

"Yes. She's called Star. An unimaginative name, I know." Eyes still closed, Weiss smirked. "I was seven when I named her. I didn't initially want to bring her out here, but I was convinced it could save lives. And I suppose she has. More than once, I've had her carry wounded people saved from Grimm."

"Sounds like you've been busy."

"Indeed." Her eyes finally opened, and she looked exhausted. He hadn't noticed before, but now she let herself relax, the bags under her eyes were obvious. "The war has led to a spike in Grimm activity behind our lines. Behind Menagerie's as well, I'm sure. The huntsmen were already stretched thin, hence why the academies cancelled their intake and we were drafted as apprentices instead. Apprentices to whom?" she asked, with a scoff. "I'm out here alone dealing with serial killers and murderers. Learning on the job, they say. What a joke."

It really did sound awful.

"Forgive me. The lack of sleep has made me cranky. If you guard the building, I will wash myself and rest."

"Where will you sleep? Is there a room without windows?"

"I'll find one. Any stretch of floor will be enough for me right now, as long as I can throw a bedroll down. Star is resting in the stable outside. She is fed and watered, so you shouldn't need to look after her." Weiss pushed herself up, shaking slightly on her feet. "We'll talk more in the morning and begin our investigation. Forgive me drafting you to help but..."

"It's fine. You need the rest. Sleep. We'll deal with this tomorrow."

Nodding, Weiss stumbled off to find somewhere to sleep.

/-/

In the end, Weiss had found a small pantry area to sleep in – a room adjoined to a kitchen, neither of which had any windows through which someone could sneak in. Jaune took to the main lobby area of the small station building, watching the front doors and sitting with his back to the door leading to the kitchen. Inside, he could hear Weiss' quiet breathing. The girl had been out the moment she laid down, well and truly spent if she could fall asleep in a situation like this watched over by a man she wasn't sure she could trust.

The war is putting pressure on everyone, Jaune thought, unwilling to speak and risk waking her. It's not only the innocent people caught in the crossfire, but those on both sides. Everyone is stretched close to breaking.

It made him pleased he'd agreed to stay and help, even if a part of him longed to move on, fearing how far Tyrian and Cinder were getting ahead of him. But, in truth, he had no idea where they were anyway, and they sure weren't going to be at a burnt-out mansion. He was headed there looking for clues, not expecting to find them, so it wasn't like they were getting any further away from him as it was.

The deadline was in his own head. They must have thought him dead or, if not that, then too weak to hunt them down. He hadn't been able to stand up to Tyrian on his own before, so they probably weren't too worried about pursuit.

And they shouldn't be. As it is, I won't be able to defeat them even should I find them. Jaune looked to the backpack of scrolls. I'd just be delivering these scrolls to them if I fought them now. I need to get stronger. He reached for the pack. I need to keep training.

The Iron Limb Technique. It was tempting, given his lack of progress, to skip over it and move onto another scroll, but it was Foundation-level technique, and he wouldn't find easier within the rest. Also, it would set in him a bad habit. If he were to give up whenever something seemed difficult, he would never advance.

And so, with the scroll open across his knees, Jaune held one arm in front of himself and let his aura flow through his meridians once more. The familiar tingling of his nerves protesting the unusual hardening of his flesh was common, and he backed off. Perhaps he was using too much or moving it too quickly.

The body is pliant and flexible. It adapts, moves and gives when someone strikes it. Metal is hard and unyielding. Perhaps that's my issue. If I move my aura too quickly, my hardened skin can't flex and give under the force of it.

Aura could be destructive, he'd seen that already, but the body had its own way of coping, like it did with everything in life. Cuts were healed, infection fought, and foreign bacteria broken down. When a huntsman forced vast amounts of aura into their body, their soft skin and muscles adapted to take the brunt of it, cushioning the internal organs. Skin moved, though it wasn't obvious, rippling like water atop a lake to keep itself from being torn asunder.

Iron did not move.

Iron shattered under too much pressure.

My skin ruptured and bled before. A sign that I was using too much aura. If my limbs are as metal, I'm stronger on the outside but weaker on the inside. In his mind, he thought of the rapier Weiss had pointed at him. A thin piece of metal that would bend and flick. Not all metal is strong. Metal that can't bend is brittle, and snaps. It has to be flexible.

Jaune drew in a deep breath and let it go – and with that breath he let go the mental image of hard, unyielding metal. His arms should not be impenetrable metal girders designed to hold up a warehouse. They should be flexible, tempered steel that could bend and give under the pressure of not only that which would hit him, but that which flowed under his skin. Aura, blood, flesh, and muscle.

Slowly, his aura connected through the meridians and spread like a net, tense, but with more slack. Flexible enough to give and be pulled upon without snapping. The tingle returned, but it was different. His nerves felt ticklish, but when he extended his right arm there was no pain, no unbearable tightness and awful tearing of skin. Opening his eyes, he saw his arm encased from fist to elbow not in metal, but in a thin sheen of white aura. Curious, he rapped a finger against the pommel of his jian.

He did not feel the touch, and his finger rang out with a metallic sound.

Success.

Excitement cut through concentration and the sheen faltered, aura snapping and dissipating through his body with a painful backlash. The wince couldn't entirely take away his good smile, nor his good mood. Concentration could be worked on, focus could be improved, but this was the breakthrough he'd needed. And all because of a rapier pointed at him. Funny how that worked.

Glass shattered on the floor above.

Jaune stood, but he didn't move from the doorway. It felt much too obvious a trick to do that and leave Weiss undefended. He needn't have worried anyway, because he quickly heard her scramble to wakefulness inside the room.

"I'm still here," he said, through the door. "It happened above."

Weiss' reply was to pull the door open and step out, rapier in hand. Her clothes had obviously been slept in, and her hair was still untied and hanging loose behind her. In total, she'd gained maybe five hours of sleep. Not nearly enough to feel rested, but enough to ward off collapse.

"Let me go first," he said, nodding to the staircase.

Weiss considered and then nodded. "By all means."

Jaune rested a hand on his jian before removing it. In such tight confines, hand-to-hand would be more advantageous. Allowing his aura to slowly circulate, he took to the staircase and slowly ascended. There was no staying quiet on it, so he focused on listening instead. Not for footsteps, but for breathing.

He could hear none.

At the last few steps, he dashed and vaulted up, landing on the first floor in preparation for an ambush that didn't come. The landing was clear, though a door was open, and moving slightly as well, buffeted by wind and slapping back against the wall with a wooden thwack, thwack, thwack.

Weiss crept up behind him with her rapier held up ahead of her at a forty-five degree angle. Her knees weren't bent, her eyes wary, and she shifted forward with dainty little steps, keeping her feet wide apart and ready to lunge forward or backwards. Silently, she looked at Jaune and then nodded toward the open door. He crept to it, while she filled in the space he left behind, her back to him as she scanned the closed doors and corridor leading deeper into the building. When Jaune crossed the doorway into the room, Weiss paused on the other side of it to guard the entrance.

There was glass on the floor inside the room, and the window was smashed open as if something had been through into it. There was no brick or rock he could see, nor a dead bird to explain the sudden damage. As Jaune stepped in, a spec of dust fell from the ceiling, passing in front of his left eye.

Disturbed.

Jaune dove low, twisted and drew his jian, lashing back and upwards. Metal struck metal, but the force with which the blow hit his sword smashed it from his hands and drove him into the wooden floor with a horrific crack. The floor buckled as something – someone – landed atop him. With an almighty crash, they both went down through the wood and scattered onto the floor below.

Painful landings were no stranger to him after years with Master Ren, and he would always be punished more for staying down. Jaune was already rolling back and to his feet, and though the dust from the explosion of wood had not yet settled, he still caught the metal-tipped butt of a pole whistling in toward his face. His left arm came up, steering it left as he ducked right. The assailant's body came next, a knee delivered straight to Jaune's face as the staff went by. There was no time to dodge but he was able to hold his other hand up to cushion it. The blow still knocked him back, though he rolled to his feet and up into a ready stance.

His opponent was wrapped from head to toe in dark greys and blues, with a bandanna around his lower mouth. All he could make out was blue eyes and shaggy blonde hair – that, and a golden tail like a monkey's swishing behind him.

A sound like a storm crackled above and drew both their attention. The faunus flipped back, agilely backflipping away from icicles that speared down into the ground from the floor above. The faunus clicked his tongue, an irritated "tch!" sounding. He reached into his pouch with his left hand and threw something upward. Little metal dart-like objects hit the wooden floor and stuck in, but it was the blinking red lights that had Jaune worried.

"WEISS! MOVE!"

The blast was small and localised, but it still tore through the ground under her feet – or what had been under her feet. Weiss had moved, thankfully, and though she hadn't gotten away, she ended up scrambling and catching the edge of the hole that opened, just stopping herself falling down to where the faunus was waiting. Her rapier tumbled down as she tried to hold on.

Lunging forward, the faunus caught it and made to throw it up and into her, but Jaune's heel swept into it and knocked it aside. Balancing on one foot, he pivoted and jumped, sweeping his foot back to take his weight as his other kicked up into the faunus' chin. The faunus was knocked back by it, but he landed on shoulder and palms and flipped back and forward, lashing out with a heavy blow that Jaune took on crossed arms, and then spinning to the floor to try and take his legs out from under him. Jaune leapt back, knowing to jump over would only leave him vulnerable.

Above, Weiss had just managed to haul herself up and out of danger. The faunus noted it, clicking his tongue again and shooting Jaune an irritated glare. "You shouldn't be here," he hissed. "Lotus scum."

"I don't know who you are—" Jaune's eyes widened as the faunus unfurled some of the cloth wrapped around his muscular arm and swept it out. The cloth seemed to come alive with aura, extending and trying to catch Jaune's neck. He barely got his arm up in time, but the cloth wrapped and sealed around the limb in a way that defied logic. The sign was obvious. "Black Ribbon Sect!"

"We do not forget!" the practitioner snarled. "We do not forgive!" Clicking a button on his staff, a blade jutted out the tip and he stabbed it at Jaune's neck. "Die!"

Jaune twisted his arms into the path of it and weaved his aura in a lattice through his skin. The transformation was instantaneous, white light glinting through his skin like a membrane. Striking, the blade skittered off his bicep and between his linked arms, and Jaune pushed them in front of one another. The thin metal blade wasn't anchored strongly, as it was attached to a hidden mechanism inside the weapon. Trapped between two metal arms, it snapped in two.

In the moment of shock, Jaune worked a foot under his jian, which had fallen with him, and kicked it up. Catching and drawing it with his free hand, he slashed at the ribbons. They were tougher than they should have been, quite clearly reinforced with aura somehow – though how the faunus was able to imbue an inert item with aura, he didn't know. But if the Lotus Temple Sect had its own secret techniques, it stood to reason the Black Ribbon Sect would as well. It took two swings, and more force then expected, but the ribbons were cut and those around his arm fell lifeless.

"The Iron Tree Sect would weep to see what became of their treasured knowledge," the faunus spat. "You truly are scum of Remnant." He glanced up, hearing Weiss' feet hammering on the floor above. "You've picked the wrong side in this conflict. Remember the name of Sun Wukong. I shall be the one to take your life."

The faunus pointed his staff at Jaune and began to glow in golden light. Two clones of him appeared at his side and rushed forward, and Jaune gave ground, twisting and slashing out with his jian, fighting to keep them in front of him and not let them surround and pin him between them. Their weapons, made of pure aura, struck his jian with force enough to prove they were capable of real bodily harm.

Jaune backpedalled and forced himself into a doorway, leaving them no option but to attack one on one. They weren't as powerful as the original, seeming to expend aura with every moment they existed and every move they made. Given they'd been created with a finite amount of aura, they soon slowed as if they were fighting through mud, and he was able to dispatch them when they became lethargic.

But the original was gone. Weiss burst through the door with a gun in hand, scanning the room as the last golden light faded away as the clone fell, transfixed on Jaune's weapon. It had been only a minute, and there was still dust from the floor's collapse falling through the air.

"You're wounded," she said.

Jaune looked down to his arms, and the thin cuts on the inner edges where he'd caught and snapped the blade. The Iron Limb Technique had worked, but he had yet to master it, so a little damage was a small price to pay. He had other things on his mind.

"It's only a cut. That wasn't a serial killer. That was someone from Menagerie."

"Someone!?" she spat. "You obviously don't know anything about this war. He introduced himself as Sun Wukong. He's one of their so-called Heavenly Generals." Weiss' tone dripped with mockery. "And whatever that says about them aside, he's responsible for no less than a hundred deaths on the battlefield. We're lucky to still be alive!"

Jaune couldn't say he felt lucky. The faunus had obviously come for Weiss, and yet upon realising he was from the Lotus Temple Sect, his ire had soon changed from professional assassination to personal vendetta.

"I think we should look at the murdered faunus," Weiss said, her hand shaking slightly as she sheathed her rapier. She quickly swept her hair up and started to tie it with a clip pulled from her dress. The action seemed to be as much to calm her nerves as look presentable. "I doubt one of the heavenly generals would be behind enemy lines killing random villagers. He would have had no way to know I, personally, would be sent here. Attacking me was... opportunistic at best. A lucky break, and a chance to kill the daughter of Menagerie's primary scapegoat."

There was a story there, though how much of it was fuelled by propaganda, Jaune wasn't sure. And he didn't want to know. It was getting harder and harder to stay out this conflict, especially when there were things he just didn't know about the history of his own sect. A sect he only considered himself a part of because of the man who saved his life.

What happened, Master Ren? Why didn't you tell me about any of this.? Now, I've no idea what it is I'm walking into, or why this whole sect hates my guts...

I fully admit that calling sun a "heavenly general" is a little on the nose, but I couldn't help it. The guy is literally based off wuxia and xianxia.

Next Chapter: 29th October

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