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Cover Art: Mystery White Flame

Chapter 74

"Allow me to explain the pecking order for this little mission of ours. There is Jaune, me, Neo, Roman, General Ironwood, Glynda and finally that dog, Zwei. Are there any questions?"

"Why are we not on the list?"

"I'd have thought the answer obvious."

Blake sighed and tipped her head back in the confined space of the Bullhead, wishing not for the first time that Cinder might not have survived the first attack on Beacon. Being trapped on a long-term mission with her was trying already and they hadn't technically begun. Their Bullhead was busy flying along with the evacuation, skirting toward Atlas to evade suspicion, where it would then divert off toward the mass of unchartered land shaped like a dragon where Jaune assumed Salem lived. Well, and where Cinder had confirmed she lived. It would have been embarrassing to arrive and learn she actually lived on a tropical island off the coast of Mistral.

Considering the inherent danger and importance of their grand journey she'd expected to feel a lot more tension – or maybe sorrow for having had to say goodbye and leave her mother and father behind in Vale. Instead, having Cinder around provided a strange buffer from the negativity by allowing them a fresh kind of negativity in hating her. It was like curing depression by going on a tour of the top ten worst orphanages.

"Ruby is our team leader." Weiss said.

"Adorable." Cinder scoffed and rolled her eyes. "And what experience does she have again? Oh yes, she almost got killed by Roman until Glynda Goodwitch saved her, then killed a Nevermore. I am drowning in a sea of inadequacy. How can I ever hope to match such lofty heights of leadership and professionalism? Truly, I am blessed to be in her presence."

"Ruby is twice the person you are!" Yang spat.

"Ruby Rose is literally half the person I am. I'd have thought that apparent from height alone."

"You're just jealous!"

"Of…? Small stature, no curves? Crushing social awkwardness? Oh, perhaps I'm jealous of the fact I only have control over glass, fire and ancient magic capable of destroying armies, when she has a speed Semblance. Ah. I see. Yes, it all makes sense now."

"Ruby has two eyes."

"Oh my, Weiss Schnee, making fun of a disability? How low."

"What!? I'm not – I mean…"

"Don't let her get to you!" Yang said, simultaneously managing to sound wise and then completely fail to heed her own advice. Blake sighed a second time. "She's just trying to make herself feel big by putting us down. Maybe she's jealous because despite all her efforts, she's no closer to snagging Jaune for herself."

"Really?" Cinder asked flatly. "Of all the things you could choose, you chose that. You, who also are no closer to that exact same objective?"

"Yeah well…" Yang's face burned red. "Screw you."

"Eloquent."

"At least I have a date with him waiting when I get back!" Yang said proudly. It was a small mistake as Ruby squawked angrily and even Weiss turned with a raised eyebrow. Yang started to sweat, but valiantly pushed on. "He's promised me a proper date once I get back and this is all over. Just me, him and a candle-lit dinner in the city."

"How cute. I won't get in your way."

Yang frowned. "You won't…?"

"Not at all. See, you can handle the boring dating foreplay, have him back by ten, and then I'll keep him company all night and show him what a real woman is capable of."

"I'm a real woman!"

"You're a schoolgirl. Shouldn't you be, oh I don't know, fumbling around with some idiot behind a bike shed? Leave the carnal pleasure to those who know what they're doing."

"I can do carnal pleasure!" Ruby yelled.

"Ruby, no," Yang said.

"Ruby, no," Weiss echoed.

"Ruby, no," Blake said automatically.

"No." Cinder agreed. "No, no, no, that's not happening."

"Screw you guys, I'm sixteen! Why does everyone treat me like I'm ten?"

"Because you act it," Cinder said. Ruby gasped and launched into a furious tirade of all the ways she did not act like she was ten, thank you very much. Sadly, the fact she had to explain it at all only went to make her sound more immature.

Show don't tell, Ruby. Actions speak louder than words. You should have taken the high ground and acted mature. And of course Cinder was smirking, making it abundantly clear she'd lured Ruby into this mess for her own entertainment. For a third time, Blake sighed. She really should have come to her team leader's defence, but this was, what, day zero-point-five of however long their mission would take? It was going to be torturous enough without making a target of herself.

At least she had Jaune's final weapon safely stored away. Her bag under and behind her feet held a special sealed container with it inside, the answer to Cinder deciding to go off the deep end and try to turn on them. In a way this bitter mockery was a good sign because it suggested Cinder was taking what pleasure she could, which in turn implied she didn't – or felt she couldn't – betray them more openly. Better a mocking Cinder than a scheming one.

And now I'm acting like Jaune. At this rate he's going to make me his next deputy the second I graduate. Argh. I just want to go kill Grimm like a normal huntress. Where do all these magical girls, Relics and world-ending immortal witches come from? It's like a bad Mistral cartoon crossed over with fantasy literature.

Annoying. Blake sighed the fourth sigh – the sigh of destiny. It was a level of `done with this` she rarely ascended to, and had only once been employed when Adam decided to woo her on Valentines day with a four hour poetry rendition highlighting her greatest virtues, all of which seemed to revolve around her looks and critical attitude. You didn't compliment someone on being critical! It wasn't a compliment. Eyeing Cinder, she couldn't believe she was actually thinking she'd rather have Adam dragged along on this.

"You can't possibly think I will answer to a bunch of brats like you," Cinder said. "Be reasonable. I am older, more experienced and the only one here who has been to the Grimmlands before. Naturally, I should lead."

"Yeah, but we don't trust you," Yang pointed out.

"I don't see how that is my problem. You simply need to get over yourselves."

"You attacked Beacon!"

"It got better."

"You tried to kill Oscar!"

"Okay, in my defence there is a very good reason for that which I can't tell you."

"Why don't we just let Ruby lead?" Weiss suggested. "It's not such a big deal. You can be second in command and direct her to the right location. Ruby may not have your experience, but you have to admit she's proven herself capable." Ruby preened at the rare praise from Weiss.

"I'll admit that she has potential," Cinder said flippantly. "All she needs to improve on is her tactical nuance, intellect, patience, strategy, timing, individual skill, teamwork, confidence, attitude, grace, analytical skills, presence and cup size."

"T-That's a lot of things…" Ruby said miserably. "And what's wrong with my cup size? I'm bigger than Weiss."

"Hey!"

"Being bigger than the smallest on the team is no accomplishment."

"HEY!"

"You're being quiet, Blake," Yang said. Yes, she had been quiet, almost like she wanted to stay out of this and not have any attention drawn to her. There was no fifth sigh – the fifth would have meant the end of the world. Instead, Blake glared at her partner. Yang being Yang either didn't notice or bulldozed on through like a Goliath with a toothache. "Who do you think should lead?"

"Cinder."

"Traitor!"

"Blake, no!"

"Damn it, Blake."

"Ohohoho. It seems someone understands their place. That's the majority vote, I'm afraid."

"How is Blake and you the majority!? That's two against three."

"Ah, but Ruby is only half a person, remember? And you're blonde, so you're not intelligent enough to vote. That makes it two against one and a half. A victory for me."

"The fuck? Jaune is blonde and you want to bang him!"

"Yes, but he's the exception."

Blake pinched the bridge of her nose and squeezed tightly. "Guys, can we not?" she pleaded. "Just let Cinder take the lead. What does it matter who is in charge? Our job is to get the Relic and get out. If Cinder knows the area and is the strongest here – and she is, whether or not any of us wants to admit it – then she should be in charge."

The rest of the Bullhead's journey to the Grimmlands took place in sulky silence.

/-/

Even though the majority of the civilians had been evacuated long before the Grimm arrived that didn't change the fact that no one other than Ozpin, Ironwood and a few others knew of the existence of Salem in the first place. Witnessing a human-shaped Grimm in a black dress approaching the walls of the city was a shock for everyone on them, apart from his father, who he'd filled in before her arrival. People began to mutter, and he just knew videos of this were being sent all over the world.

"Quite the problem she's presenting us," Ozpin said. "I wonder how you will get past this one."

"Me? This is your doing! You're the one who kept her a secret, so you can damn well help me break the news of her to-" Jaune cut off as Oscar blinked and flinched back from him. "Oscar? That bastard just dodged on me, didn't he?"

"Y-Yeah." Oscar smiled hopefully. "Sorry?"

"Bah. I hate your roommate, Oscar."

It didn't take long at all for the questions to start – though Jaune was surprised to find them posed by Lisa Lavender. The wildly grinning woman wore a safety helmet he was fairly certain would do diddly squat against the Grimm, and a bulletproof jacket he was equally sure would be reduced to wrapping paper. Despite that, she and her single cameraman were braving the oncoming Grimm apocalypse in the name of journalistic integrity or juicy danger pay – definitely one of those.

"Headmaster Arc! Headmaster Arc! A question from all the people of Remnant watching this brave defence. There has been sighted a woman outside and with the Grimm, seemingly leading and commanding them. What comment do you have for all those shaken by the news?"

Damn it, Ozpin. Damn it to hell.

Well, if it worked before…

"It's a shock to us as well, Lisa," he lied and faced the camera, nodding quickly as the happy woman slid in to stand beside him with the microphone to his lips. At least she hadn't made entire news segments speculating on his love life. "That said, we don't yet know all there is to know about is Grimm and not a year goes by when something new isn't discovered. This may yet be an unknown type of Grimm, a variant or even a poor attempt at infiltrating human settlements."

"You don't think it's anything too dangerous, then?"

"We can't say for sure, but it lacks wings to carry it over the wall or claws to tunnel under, so it's not a priority at the moment. It may also be that it's a one-off, a freak occurrence, and the fact there's only one of them would support that."

"There are some suggesting the Grimm might be led by this female Grimm. What are your thoughts on that?"

"Confusion if I'm being honest, Lisa. You can only lead someone if they're intelligent and we know the Grimm aren't that, and who would be coming up with these ideas and why? The human-type Grimm is roughly in the centre of the horde from what we've seen, so it doesn't seem all that different from any other. We're keeping an open mind, but I think it's too soon to jump to any wild conclusions. You might as well start calling her the Queen of the Grimm if you're going to take that angle. And maybe she's an immortal witch, too." He laughed. "People will jump to any conclusion."

"How do you think a human Grimm is made?" Lisa asked. "We've had… ah… conflicting theories online, some of which I cannot say here on primetime TV."

Jaune's expression went slack for a second as his brain processed that, before a full body cringe took over and nearly bent him double. Lisa nodded sadly, as though to say she'd experienced it a few minutes earlier.

"That's… Really? No, just no. We really don't know how Grimm are made. That's still a mystery to us. If there is some purpose to it then it's possible she's been made to act as a mouthpiece for the horde, but other than that we have nothing to go on. If you like, I can have our resident Grimm expert Peter Port come give his thoughts…"

"No!" Lisa yelled, then coughed and recovered. "No, headmaster, I'd hate to keep an esteemed and powerful huntsman such as Peter Port away from the front lines. Well, folks, that's all for now. Back to Jeremy in our temporary Atlas-provided studio for a look on how the citizens of Atlas are banding together with charitable initiatives and home sharing to look after Vale's elderly and infirm evacuees. Over to you, Jeremy."

Lisa smiled for a long moment and then sighed when the cameraman lowered the lens. She removed her helmet, tossed it aside and ran a hand through her hair, pulling out a packet of cigarettes, placing one between her lips and lighting it. She offered him one as well, but he waved it off.

"What are you still doing here?" he had to ask. "You should have evacuated."

"Someone had to stay for this. I didn't exactly want it to be me, but if it wasn't then it would have been some other poor sucker. How much of what you said back there was bullshit?"

"I really shouldn't say."

"We're off the record. I know better than to start a panic."

"It's not as new as I suggested." He watched her expression but didn't catch any surprise. As an investigative journalist, she probably knew all about Governments censoring key information. "Still, that's not a bad thing. We've known about this for a while."

"Hm. I'd rather a known enemy than an unknown one. Things are going good in Atlas from what I'm told," she said. "Better than it could have been given we've basically invading and squatting in their streets. That won't mean much if everything falls here, though."

"Is that why you accepted to stay?"

"Pretty much. The extra pay is nice but not nice enough to die for. Still, I'd rather die quick if it comes to it and not be stuck in Atlas waiting for the Grimm to catch up and finish us. Call me selfish but that's how it is. Hey. Is Roman around? I could really use a de-stressor and he's usually good for a tumble."

Jaune's mind whited out for a second and then recovered. "He's… well, around. Is this… normal?"

"What?" she asked. "Oh, you mean the different personality on camera and off? Yeah, that's normal. It's no different for you, is it? I've seen you talk enough to know you're not normally like you were just then."

He supposed that was true. He'd been nervous and putting on a bit too much when the camera was focused on him, just as he did whenever he had to give a speech to the students. Mom always said half the battle of confidence was convincing yourself you were, even if that meant lying to yourself, so he tended to stand taller, stiffer and speak in a deeper and louder voice. I guess that's not different to what she does, except she tries to be preppy and friendly.

"Where will you be when the fighting starts?" he asked her.

"Away from it. Don't worry, we'll be out your way."

"Thanks." He'd thought for a moment… no, she wasn't suicidal. "I think Roman is off at the admin centre. He's probably due a break if you want to… you know."

"Oh, I know." Lisa winked and strode off. The cameraman went the other way, his work done and the two not as seemingly joined at the hip as he would have thought. Jaune stood behind on the wall, back to the slowly approaching Grimm.

Ironwood found him there. "I saw your interview. Good work on deflecting. It won't last forever, but it might keep people satisfied for now. That's the best we can help with. I don't see Salem remaining a secret after this, but if all goes well then it won't matter anyway."

"What about the other huntsmen? It's not just the public that are shocked…"

"Have faith in them to remain steadfast. They've fought Grimm most their lives so they'll see a Grimm first and a human second. I'm sure if they came across her hurt and wounded they might hesitate, but once she starts the attack any empathy will dry up quickly and they'll see her as nothing more than a Grimm in human form. As for later, well, we'll leave Ozpin to handle that. He's the one who has to keep living long after we die."

Jaune chuckled. That wasn't a bad idea, especially since Oz as good as dumped him with the load in the first place. Bastard is just as lazy as he was as the headmaster. Annoying as it was, he was kind of glad to have nothing change there.

/-/

The Grimm outside meandered and approached the city over the course of a day and a half. It seemed such a stupidly long amount of time for them to come close, especially after days and days of evacuations, but there really were that many Grimm. Even after the first rank reached a point within shooting distance, the middle and back ranks were several miles back and shuffling along. Salem remained firmly out of range with Tyrian and Hazel, and Ironwood had ordered there be no fire opened until the attack commenced and the Grimm got themselves nice and packed up near the walls. There, explosive attacks could wipe out whole chunks at once, and there was little point starting this early when they were reliant on Team RWBY and Cinder. Time was their ally, not Salem's.

Jaune stepped out onto the wall in the morning with a steaming mug of tomato soup cupped between his hands. Roman was puffing on a cigar with a love bite on his neck, Neo was trying to get a rise out of him and Oobleck was videoing the horde and speaking into a recording device for what he had claimed would one day be a historical moment taught in schools. For him, the proper recording of such an event was too great a chance to give up.

"They still there?" Jaune asked.

"Still there," Roman replied, yawning, "challenging us to Remnant's biggest staring contest. I get that this is better than the alternative, but part of me wishes they'd do something."

"Ironwood thinks they're waiting for slower Grimm more suited to breaching the walls to show up."

"Fun." Roman took a puff and blew out some smoke into the early morning air. "I guess this is all technically good for us, isn't it? Buying time for Queen bitch and Team always-in-my-way to steal the Relic."

Jaune nodded, though his eyes were focused on a sudden bout of movement toward the front of the horde. The mist hung thick over the land outside the city making visibility low, but the mass of black appeared to be bulging somewhat. Standing on the edge of the wall with his hands on the railing, wishing it had crenulations like a medieval castle, he peered over the edge and down. A small group of Grimm were approaching the city. Not many, all told. Four Grimm, two Beowolves, an Ursa and a Beringel, and a fifth figure in the centre.

"Salem…"

"Wait, is she approaching the wall?" Roman hacked, coughing out his cigar. He rushed over and stared down. "The hell?"

"The hell indeed. I hope Ironwood is seeing this…"

Salem strode toward their section of the wall as if she knew exactly where he was and flanked by her bodyguard. Huntsmen and huntresses looked to him for instruction but Jaune was lost on what to do. As Roman said, time was on their side and delaying was best. On the other hand wasn't this a good chance to test their `immortality` theories on her? He really wished Ironwood was around.

The hesitation as good as answered for them and everyone put their weapons down even though he hadn't told them to. It was clear Salem wasn't attacking, and they must have thought he wanted to allow whatever their purpose. If he went back on that now, he'd look indecisive. Or maybe no one would care. He was almost ready to shout out anyway when Salem beat him to it.

"Jaune Arc of Beacon!"

About two hundred pairs of eyes – everyone within hearing distance – turned to stare at him. For his part, he stood there dumbstruck, as if asking if it wasn't some other Jaune Arc she wanted to speak to. Roman and Neo looked just as shocked.

"Ahem. Jaune Arc of Beacon!" Salem repeated.

He wasn't sure if it was manners or shock-induced brain death that had him leaning over the edge of a huge wall to shout out, "Hello? This is Jaune Arc speaking." He winced at the sound of Roman's palm impacting his own face. He couldn't help it, though. How else were you meant to respond to a Grimm asking your name at a wall? "Can I help?"

"You can open the gates, surrender to me and be eradicated with the rest of your pathetic kind."

Jaune considered that for a moment before responding, "No."

"Then why ask in the first place? Humans. So wasteful. Ahem." Clearing her throat again, the woman – who looked very small from so very high up – stared up at him. "I am Salem and I am here to declare war on Vale and all humans of Remnant."

Jaune looked to Roman.

Roman shrugged.

"You'll never take us alive…?"

"Yes," she said. "That was the intention."

"I don't think you need to declare war on us," he shouted awkwardly down the wall. "The whole bringing an army to our doorstep thing was kind of enough."

"Really?" Salem sounded genuinely surprised. "Is that so? In my day it was customary for a formal declaration of your intent to go to war. How else could terms of surrender be set?" Reaching into her robes, she brought out a rolled-up piece of paper. "I have yours here. Will you open the gate so I can give them to you, or shall I read them out?"

"The hell is this?" Roman whispered.

"I don't know." Jaune replied. "I'm just saying whatever."

Clearing his own throat, he leaned back over to reply to Salem. "You can read them."

"Very well." The roll opened and fell to the floor. Salem, to his utmost surprise, pulled out a small pair of wireframe glasses from her robe and settled them on her nose. "Ahem. The city/kingdom/principality of Vale (delete as applicable) does hereby accept its complete and unconditional surrender to Salem, High Queen of the Grimm. The humans/faunus within (delete as applicable) will submit to eradication/processing (delete as applicable) in all forms and without resistance. All artifacts of a totally-not-magical nature will be surrendered to the victor and/or victors (delete as applicable), to do with as they wish. Additionally, Vale shall officially and irreversibly change its name to `Ozpin sucks` until the end of its days." Salem looked up. "That is all. Your response?"

Where was Ironwood? Seriously?

"Um." Jaune tried to sound confident. "Isn't us changing our name a little redundant if we're all being killed…?"

"Killed and/or processed. The terms of your surrender are negotiable. I'm not a savage. We can discuss the terms now if you like..."

"What's processing?"

"You will all be rendered down into compost."

"Won't that involve killing us?"

"Will it?" she asked, surprised. "Oh, I suppose it would. Hm. I forget how pathetically squishy you all are. Well, I suppose it's death or death, then. Different names, though. Do you have a preference? I'm personally fond of the killing myself, but it is your end, so I'm open to some middle ground option. Perhaps cessation of life? Ascension from the mortal coil?"

"I don't like any of those…"

"We'll go with killing, then." Salem held out a hand, accepted a ball-point pen from the Beringel and scribbled out one of the `as appropriate` sections. "Okay, that's that sorted. What about your name? Is it Kingdom of Vale now? Why? You haven't had a monarchy since Oswald the first. Or are you a city state now?"

"It's still Kingdom," someone called down.

"Thank you." Salem scribbled some words out. "At least someone here is polite. Just me as the victory, obviously, and I think it's both human and faunus. Okay. Sign here and here." Salem flourished her pen. "Ah. Now all that remains is your signature. Are you coming down here to sign it or am I coming up there?"

"Neither."

Salem tilted her head to the side. "You're severing your hand and mailing it to me?"

"What? No." Jaune shook his head. "We're not surrendering and I'm not signing anything. The people of Vale will stand against you and all you stand for. We'll fight you until our last breaths."

"Capital. That ought to save time on the processing. Well, those are the terms of surrender set, so I suppose we can get this show on the roa-"

"What about the terms of your surrender?" Jaune called down.

"Excuse me? Ahah. I'm sorry. Obviously, I'm not going to actually lose, so that's a little unnecessary."

"You might."

"I won't."

"But you might…"

"I won't."

"But what if you did and there was no formal agreement in place?" he asked, thinking of Ozpin. She and Ozpin were the same and had been married for centuries. There was probably no one closer to her on Remnant, and if he knew Ozpin there was one thing that would break him. "Wouldn't that just mean more paperwork? And you're not going to be in the mood for paperwork if you've just lost a war. Wouldn't it be best to get it out the way now?"

Salem looked down and appeared to converse quietly with herself for a good minute, during which General Ironwood came sprinting up onto the wall like a man who'd just been told aliens existed. He ran to the edge, stared down and then to Jaune with abject confusion. Jaune shrugged back, having just as little idea as to what was going on.

"Very well." Salem called up. "What are your demands?"

"Leave and never return!" Ironwood roared.

"Who on Remnant are you?"

"I am General Ironwood of the Atlas-"

"Yes. Yes. You're unimportant. I was speaking to Jaune Arc. Your demands, please?"

Wincing at the look on Ironwood's face, Jaune nevertheless answered her, "Leave and never come back?"

"Unacceptable. I'm not going to accept a condition lasting all eternity. How about I shall grant you five hundred years? That seems fair."

Five hundred-!? That was insane. Still…

"A thousand."

"Six hundred."

"Nine."

"Are we really doing this?" she said with a sigh. "Let's save ourselves the effort and agree on seven hundred and fifty. That's my attack, though. I won't be stopping the Grimm. I will, however, agree to no actions taken against the Kingdoms so long as none are taken against me. Is that agreeable?"

"Yes." Ironwood said.

Salem remained silent with eyebrow cocked.

"Yes." Jaune said.

"Very good. Do you have something for me to sign?"

What mad world had they stepped into? Jaune patted his pockets but Neo stuffed a scrap of paper into his face before he could find anything. It was a receipt for ice-cream and his initial thought was to squeal at how many zeroes were on the tally at the end. Neo handed him a pen, though, and turned her back, letting him rest the receipt on her skin and scribble into it.

In terms of official and world-defining agreements, it wasn't much.

"I, Salem, do agree to – mint choc chip – not attack the Kingdom of – IceCreamEmpire – Vale for the duration of – 15% off – seven hundred and fifty years, should I surrender in the battle – Neopolitan – of Vale." And below it, "You were served today by Brad. Rate my performance online."

"Incredible," Oobleck said, camera focused in. "In the future people will clamour over this moment where the great treaty of Vale was made. This may well become the most important document on Remnant. Which is upsetting given how it looks…"

"I work with what I have," Jaune snapped back, approaching the walls edge and, after a moment's thought, letting the thing go. It fluttered down listlessly, drifting left and right before it landed near a Beowolf who picked it up with one claw. Like he had, Salem had the Beowolf turn around and offer its back for her to sign on.

"I will slip it under your gate," she said, ordering the Beringel to do so. "And you may instruct Brad that his service was acceptable, but that it shall not stop him being ripped asunder. You have until midday to make peace with whatever it is you worship. Money, I believe. After that, Vale shall fall, and soon after the world." Salem removed her glasses and turned her back on them. "Have a good day."

The small entourage turned and left, while a panting Velvet Scarlatina came sprinting up the steps to the wall to hand him a crumpled receipt now signed at the bottom by an eldritch horror. He wasn't sure why she felt he needed it or why he had, either.

"The hell was that!?" Roman repeated for the third time.

"I believe that was someone far out of date giving us a crash course of how war used to be done," Oobleck said happily. "Technically speaking, this is her first appearance in the last several thousand years. I imagine she's out of date on a lot of things. By comparison, Ozpin was very well adjusted to the modern world."

"I'll get the artillery teams ready," Ironwood grumbled. "At least with her being formal enough to give us an exact time, we know what to prepare for. I wonder if there's some other way we can abuse this."

"Maybe we should have challenged her to a duel," Oobleck said. "I read that ancient civilisations would often do that, one champion against another."

"And if she chose herself as the champion?" Roman asked. "Not a good idea. Especially not when you consider if we lost, it'd be everyone's lives on the chopping block. Sorry, on the `processing line`. I don't think either is something to look forward to."

Jaune hummed, lost in thought. Salem had been surprisingly human there. He'd known she was once human and thus capable of speech, but he hadn't thought she'd be willing. The way she sounded smug, frustrated and even exasperated smacked of Ozpin. It humanised her. That wouldn't be hard to get past once combat began, but Ironwood might have been onto something when he talked about ways to take advantage.

"Oobleck. Can you grab me some books on ancient warfare? I think I'd like to do some reading..."

Busy day. Busy day. Two weeks late on a magazine because the sales team keep wanting to change things. That's fun! Lockdown doesn't make things easy either, since a lot of our customers are working from home or doing unusual hours.

Next Chapter: 3rd September

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