Jaune Arc. Sole survivor of the Slaughter of Aegis. Champion of the Vytal Tournament. Head of the Royal Guard. Trusted advisor to the King himself. Youngest person in history to commit regicide.

Pyrrha Nikos narrowed her eyes, standing in one of the two observation boxes as a guest of the Queen. She had spent nearly the entirety of the last two years hunting this man across every corner of Remnant. She hadn't done it for revenge or out of some sense of duty—Vale wasn't even her home kingdom, after all—but for the money. The bounty on Arc's head had been one befitting the murderer of a king, sizable enough that Pyrrha could retire comfortably if she so desired. Over the course of those two years, she had made it a point to learn as much as she could about the man. As it turned out, she had nearly faced him once during the Vytal Tournament—back before his act of treason—but fate had apparently had other plans.

Now, here he was, being escorted to the gallows by the very men he once commanded. Despite the restraints on his wrists and the jeering crowd surrounding him, Arc was incredibly calm, eyes moving from face to face. Pyrrha silently wondered just how many knew him, how many of these people calling for his death had met him before he'd betrayed their trust and assassinated their king. Eventually, his eyes locked with hers, blue staring into green. He didn't break stride, but gave a small, respectful nod before continuing to scan the faces around him.

Pyrrha didn't normally stick around to find out what happened to her bounties. Like most in her profession, she tended to dehumanize her targets: a necessary evil to help her sleep at night, especially for the morally ambiguous jobs. This was a special case, however. Regardless of the Queen's requests, she had decided she wanted to see this one play out. She'd had long jobs before, but none had ever eluded her for as long as Arc had. He'd burned through—sometimes literally—over a dozen safe houses in the two years before she caught him. Most targets never made it a month.

The redhead's own eyes began to drift through the crowd. A vast majority of the people seemed to be ordinary citizens, yelling curses and shaking their fists at the former knight, but there were those who were just standing around, probably just looking for a show. A blur of motion caught her eye and she snapped to it. A familiar blonde-haired woman bounced up and down, waving her arm to catch Pyrrha's attention. Her lilac-eyes lit up when she saw the redhead looking her way and she grinned, throwing out a double thumbs-up. Pyrrha gave her a small smile and a nod. Yang Xiao Long was a good friend and an excellent hunter in her own regard, though the two of them didn't work nearly well enough together to warrant a partnership.

Pyrrha turned her eyes back to Arc as he made his way up steps to the platform. He was still looking around the courtyard and, as his eyes settled on the other observation box, he smiled and gave a small, hand-cuffed wave. The hunter followed the gesture and, based on the grimace on the white-haired woman's face, assumed it had been directed toward Weiss Schnee. Frankly, even if Arc had killed the king, Pyrrha was a little surprised that his execution had warranted an appearance from the head of the Schnee Company herself. Arc's behavior, however, didn't shock her at all; he'd always fancied himself a lady-killer, even though it had never seemed to pan out for him.

The crowd began to quiet as the man's boots thudded across the stage, somehow demanding respect in spite of his infamy. Due to the nature of the execution, all sound on the platform was amplified, enough so that Pyrrha could clearly make out Arc's words to his executioner. "Cardin Winchester. It would be you." He then seemed to sigh, as if the reality of what was about to happen just caught up to him, and positioned himself under the noose. "Well, let's get this over with."

As the executioner looped the rope around the man's neck, he asked, "Any last words, traitor?"

Arc thought for a moment as Winchester moved to his own position. He stared off into the distance and projected his voice. "Let your aim be true, 'cause if you miss, I'm going to be pissed off."

A small wave of nervous laughter moved through the crowd. The executioner faltered for a moment, hand on the lever. "You do realize you're being hung and not shot, right?"

The blond tilted his head toward the man as best he could with the noose around his neck. "When you're the one being executed, you can say whatever you want." The remark garnered further laughter from the spectators, and even Pyrrha couldn't suppress a small smile. She quickly put it aside as one of the guards on the platform raised his arm into the air. Arc closed his eyes and winced in anticipation of what was to come.

The guard's arm swung down and, an instant later, the floor dropped out beneath Arc's feet. The crowd cheered as the rope grew taut, but soon fell into a stunned silence as it seemed to snap and the man disappeared beneath the gallows. It wasn't until his hands popped back up from the hole and the cuffs shattered that the onlookers began to panic.

Pyrrha had Miló drawn before the Queen's guards could even begin escorting the woman away. The crowd had been too loud for the bounty hunter to be certain about the first shot, but she had definitely heard the second one, faint as it was. Sniper. This was planned. Arc hadn't been talking to Winchester about missing; he'd been talking to his accomplice. Whoever it was had to be a highly skilled marksman.

Arc leapt back up onto the gallows and was immediately forced to fend off his former escorts, as well as his would-be executioner. The bounty hunter pulled her rifle to her shoulder, but she knew she didn't have a clear shot. If she hit anyone other than Arc—even superficially—she'd likely be next on the gallows. Not that her intervention would have changed anything, as Arc swiftly and brutally took down those attempting to subdue him with his bare hands and a stolen sword.

As the last man fell, clutching at his leg, Arc turned his gaze toward Pyrrha. Their eyes locked through the redhead's crosshair, causing her to hesitate. Maybe it was the preconceptions that came with him having killed the king, or maybe it had to do with the fact that she had hunted him for two years and turned him in to be executed but, either way, Pyrrha had expected his look to carry the cold anger of a man who wanted revenge or even the overly-cocky pride of one who had cheated death. What she got instead was a challenging stare, daring her to shoot.

She did.

Arc's stolen sword flashed in front of him, deflecting the bullet down into the dirt. The man narrowed his eyes, the edge of his mouth twisting ever so slightly into the ghost of a smile. Pyrrha didn't let it faze her and fired again, but the man ducked, rolling off the gallows to land smoothly on his feet. Most of the crowd was still in the courtyard, sticking at gates as they attempted to flee and inadvertently preventing additional guards from entering. Only one person was heading away from the gate, however: Yang.

Don't do it, Yang, Pyrrha silently urged. The woman was a good fighter, but Arc was better and, unlike her, armed. Unfortunately, Yang was probably too focused on the idea of a potential reward to consider her odds. As the blonde began to engage the man, Pyrrha slung Miló back over her shoulder and looked for the fastest way down. Following her planned route, she left through the back of the box and swung around the corner to come out onto the wall. Vaulting over the edge, she grabbed hold of the banner hanging beneath the box to slow her descent.

Still several feet from the ground, Pyrrha released the banner, dropping into a roll to break her fall. By the time she got to her feet, Arc had been "driven back" to the gallows. He was easily avoiding Yang's punches and kicks, occasionally batting her arms aside with the flat of his sword. Yang apparently thought she was winning the fight as she grinned, but things turned in the blink of an eye as Arc ducked beneath one of her arms. Before Pyrrha could cover half the distance between them, the former guardsman slammed Yang's head against the corner of the platform, knocking her out cold.

Pulling Akoúo̱ from her back, Pyrrha flung the shield at Arc, drawing her other weapon in the same motion. Knowing better than to try deflecting the projectile, the blond ducked, giving the bounty hunter a perfect opportunity to come down on him with Miló in its sword form. Steel ground against steel as Arc recovered just enough from his vulnerable position to bring his own sword between them. Breaking off, the redhead spun around to bring her weapon clashing back against his as he stood. The man casually twisted his blade, flicking Miló to the side.

Continuing to match her attacks, Arc slowly backed away from Pyrrha, edging closer and closer to the stairs leading up to the gallows. The bounty hunter knew better than to let him control the fight and adjusted her positioning to push him back into the intersection between the steps and the platform. That was when she saw where Arc had been moving: Akoúo̱, embedded in the wooden stairs. It seemed as if shifting herself had indeed been the right choice.

Apparently acknowledging that the fight hadn't gone the way he'd planned, Arc stopped moving, allowing Pyrrha to get within an arm's reach of him. The two matched each other strike for strike, their swords clashing and grinding against each other in a flurry of motion. Pyrrha became so engrossed in the skirmish that she was caught completely off-guard when Arc dodged one of her swings and pulled Akoúo̱ out of the stairs.

The flat of the bronze shield struck the bounty hunter from the side, knocking her into the steps and stunning her. As she struggled back to feet, Arc dropped the shield and ran past her, toward the still fleeing crowd. There was a scream, and Pyrrha looked up to see the man grab a small brunette woman. Hostage. Does he think he'll get through— The redhead was surprised when Arc turned and began running away from the crowd, dragging the woman behind him. Where is he going? The only thing out that way is the cliff… He wouldn't. Shaking her head to clear the last of the fog, Pyrrha grabbed up Akoúo̱ and ran after the man.

As Pyrrha had thought, Arc had run up right to the edge of the cliff. Holding his hostage out between himself and the bounty hunter, he looked down over the edge. The redhead shifted Miló back to a rifle and pointed it at the pair. "Let her go, Arc!"

The brunette between the two was close to tears. "Please, help me!" Pyrrha just nodded at her, keeping her sights trained on Arc.

The killer looked up at Pyrrha. "You know, I'm not sure if I should be flattered that you respect me enough to call me by my last name, or insulted that you don't think we know each other well enough to call me by my first."

Pyrrha slowly began to circle, hoping to line up a better shot. "I'm not playing your games."

"Please, he's going to kill me!" the woman screamed, tears now falling freely down her face.

Arc scoffed. "I'm not going to kill you. If I did, I'd lose my only bargaining chip."

"Let her go!" Pyrrha barked again.

Arc was unphased. Holding the woman at arm's length, with the tip of his blade pressed against her back, he cocked his head while still looking at Pyrrha. "You know, this whole thing reminds me of Eldenbridge." The bounty hunter narrowed her eyes in confusion; she hadn't even seen Arc until Orres, and the only time he'd taken a hostage was at Arassin. "I hate to admit it," he continued, "but at that point I honestly thought that you were supposed to actually burn a safe house. After that, it was more of a joke than anything."

Pyrrha took a step forward, ignoring the question of how an experienced man such as him could be so naïve. "You won't get away, no matter how much you talk."

"I suppose not," Arc said, almost sadly. "I guess you're just going to have to shoot me, then?" he asked, surprisingly calm. "Well, come on then, do it!"

Pyrrha's finger tightened on her trigger, but she stopped herself from pulling it all the way. This was too easy. The cliff, his positioning, the talking. He was setting up for something. What are you playing at?

Arc's face turned dark at her hesitance. "What are you waiting for? Do it!" The bounty hunter kept her sights on the man's heart, but found herself genuinely unable to pull the trigger. "SHOOT ME!"

CRACK

Pyrrha jumped at the sudden gunshot. Pulling her head away from her rifle, she looked up at Arc. The man's eyes were fixed on the left side of his chest and the blood that was rapidly spreading from a bullet hole through it. He took a stumbling step backward toward the cliff, pushing the brunette away from himself before he fell.

The bounty hunter lunged forward, catching the woman before she could hit the ground. The civilian clung to the redhead, now crying tears of gratitude. "Thank you! Thank you s-so much!" Pyrrha carefully pried the woman off her, offering up short acknowledgements to her thanks. As soon as she was free, she looked over the edge, searching for any sign of Arc. It was a long way down to the bottom of the cliffs, but she had spent so much time dealing with the hostage that there was nothing to see. Arc's body was gone beneath the surface of the bay.

Hearing several pairs of feet approaching, Pyrrha turned around to see Yang and several guards running toward her. While two of the guards tended to the woman, the rest of the group looked out over the edge. "I guess that's twice now you've gotten him, Pyr," Yang congratulated, clapping the bounty hunter on the shoulder. "Guess this time's a little more permanent though."

Pyrrha shook her head. "I didn't—"

"Thank you again," the brunette woman interrupted, being supported by the two guards. "If you hadn't shot him, I would be dead."

The redhead stared dumbly as the former hostage was led away. She hadn't shot Arc… had she? There was really only one way to be sure. Pulling the magazine from Miló, she counted the bullets. Only two missing. If I didn't shoot him, who did? His sniper? No, the gunshot was far too loud and close.

"Hey, Pyr. You alright?"

Pyrrha snapped out of her thoughts as Yang shook her lightly. "Oh, uh, yes. I'm fine."

The blonde gave her a wide smile. "You better be, 'cause the first round's on you!" It took a moment for Pyrrha to realize just what her friend meant, and she shook her head with a small smile. Of course, Yang would take any excuse to get drunk, and if she didn't have to pay, all the better.

She made to follow after the blonde, but one of the guards stopped her. "I'm sorry ma'am, but Commander Adel is going to want to debrief you."

Yang made a sound of disappointment, but Pyrrha nodded. "Of course. Lead the way." As the bounty hunter followed the uniformed woman, she returned her thoughts to the incident just minutes before. Something about it wasn't sitting right with her no matter how many times she replayed it in her head. Arc had to have known what he was doing.

He always did.

So, I got the idea for this story quite a while ago, listening to the song "Renegade" by Styx, but I only started writing it a few months ago (yes, it has taken me that long to get around to finishing it). Initially, I had planned it to be a one-shot focusing on Jaune's perspective of being taken to the gallows with little reference to other characters at all, but things started spiralling out once I dug deeper into the world and I ended up with what I have now. This part essentially serves as a set-up for the second half, which is where most of the world-building is. Expect to see that next week. Until then, au revoir!