Chapter 10: Breaking the Barriers... and Occasional Ribs.

Leadership is frighteningly similar to growth hormones. Both will get you to grow up about twice as fast, and both will get you health problems. And, sure enough, abusing neither of the substances pays off in the long run.

For the love of Light, somebody turn off the Sun.

As if by magic, the blinding rays of light immediately became obstructed by something, leaving his eyes in the shade again. Confused by such coincidence, Jaune raised himself in the bed, pausing mid-swing as to not hit his head on the upper bunk, but realized there wasn't one. Oh, right. I'm not home. This is Beacon. Opening his eyes, he saw the reason the Sun suddenly took mercy on him and stopped shining right on his face: a feminine silhouette was standing in front of the window, stretching. Based on the long flowing hair and the tall, slender frame, Jaune quickly deduced that it was, in fact, Pyrrha and not Nora. Upon a second look, however, he also realized she could not have been stretching, as her pose was far too collected and precise for this: Pyrrha's arms were outstretched up and away from her body almost in perfect symmetry, her back was strictly straight and not bent under any angle, she was standing on her toes with her legs put together like in an army formation and not like someone warming up after a night's worth of sleep. What's she doing?

A third look brought a realization that sent shivers down Jaune's spine: Pyrrha was almost fully naked, the only two pieces of clothing being her underwear and a bra. While in no way unfamiliar with nudity, his head still snapped to the right in a matter of a heartbeat, partially out of common courtesy, partially on pure reflex. Such sudden movement also produced a loud crack out of his still stiff body. While he could not quite see what his roommate was doing, he could hear frantic commotion happening to his left. Several seconds later, Pyrrha's apologetic voice reached his ear:

"Eh… Morning, Jaune. You can… look now. Sleep well?"

Upon turning his head back to face the front and cracking his neck yet again, Jaune found Pyrrha fully clothed in her school uniform, looking at him with a barely noticeable blush on her face and a small smile on her lips, bearing a tiny hint of embarrassment to it.

I suppose it's still less awkward than me having to tell her I saw her?

"Ehm… Morning," he scratched his head, trying to come up with at least another sentence. "I didn't expect to wake up to see you like that. Sorry."

"It's alright," she said, the blush growing in intensity ever so slightly. "We're in this room for the next four years. We'll have to get used to one another at some point." Something in her tone irked Jaune. She sounds like she's looking forward to it. In an attempt to derail the conversation onto less awkward topics, he decided to ask about the reason he saw her like that:

"So… what were you doing? Didn't look like you were stretching."

"Oh… that," she shook her head a little. "You might call it a small Mistralian custom. I'm not sure how much you know about us, but… we're pretty religious people, which affects our lifestyle quite a bit. What do you know about our belief?"

Rummaging the corners of his mind for any information about Mistral or its religion, Jaune suddenly remembered an excerpt from a book he read a long, long time ago. The fact of it did not surprise him.

"You worship Light, right? And revere the Sun as the purest manifestation thereof. Is that what you were doing?" Pyrrha's eyes slightly widened in surprise. She responded with a nod:

"Quite right, actually. We call it 'praising the Sun'. It's become a sort of a lighthearted quip amongst foreigners. You're supposed to do it at sunrise, but I'm still acclimatizing. How'd you know this? This kind of knowledge isn't common amongst those who haven't been to Mistral."

Jaune chuckled: "Well, I personally haven't, but my grandma did quite a bit of travelling around the world and documented almost all of it. Ever heard of Citra Day?"

"Author of 'Traveler's Diary: All There Is to Know about Remnant'? She's one of the most popular authors in Mistral, partly due to the fact that she didn't describe us as 'raving religious lunatics', which was quite a rare phenomenon back in the days," a burst of laughter left Pyrrha's throat, but ceased almost immediately as she looked at Jaune in disbelief: "Wait. She was your grandmother?"

"Yeah. Her actual name was Amber Arc, and she was my grandma..." Jaune slightly lowered his tone. "Or she would be whenever she visited. Which didn't happen often. Last time I saw her was about four years ago, she came back to us from another trip to the frontier and was busy writing another book. Didn't stop her from making sure I memorized her entire diary, though."

Pyrrha's shoulders visibly slumped: "Oh. Sorry for bringing this up."

"Nah, it's alright," suddenly, Jaune began giggling. "What I lacked in attention from my grandparents, I got overcompensated in sisterly love. Anyways, where are Ren and Nora?"

"They left half an hour ago. Nora was nagging Ren to make pancakes the entire time. I wanted to tell her pancakes were bad for her…" the redhead cautiously looked around before continuing. "…But honestly, after seeing her performance, I'm a little bit scared to do so."

With eyes the size of a platter and the voice of someone just arisen from the grave, Jaune asked: "The great Pyrrha Nikos, afraid of someone?"

"Well, a true master never underestimates his opponent, which is especially hard to do if the opponent has a gigantic hammer," Pyrrha raised her hands in a shrug, accompanied by a slightly larger smile. Jaune's, on the other hand, drooped as a horrifying thought distilled.

"Pyrrha?.."

"Jaune?"

"Just how much time do we have until classes start?" his partner paused for a second, followed by a surprisingly calm reply:

"About an hour, so no rush is necessary. Although I was about to wake you up just before you did so."

Dressed like you were?

"So…" the girl continued. "Shall we get breakfast?"

Having spent about five minutes on getting himself back in shape, Jaune, accompanied by Pyrrha, exited the dorm room and left for the dining hall in search for something to fill his stomach before the upcoming lectures. Wandering the halls of the academy, stray thoughts were flaring left and right in his mind, some disconcerting, some outright panic-inducing.

I guess that's what I get for lying and rushing ahead of time: a bunch of responsibility piled upon my shoulders and a Silva as a co-student. Not that I'm the one to say anything about the latter... I mean, he did seem like a nice guy. Even tried helping me for no reason. He winced as the finer details of that day came to mind. Think of something else!

Like how I have to lead a group of vastly superior fighters by setting an example? What am I supposed to do now?!

Lead. An Arc never backs down, after all.

He sighed. He never thought highly of the family's adage, believing it to be an archaic and narrow-minded saying inapplicable in the modern world. This time, however, it seemed that perseverance and stubbornness would be the only things getting him out of the mess he was in.

"Everything alright?" Jaune's contemplations have not gone unnoticed to his companion as Pyrrha turned towards him.

"Lots of stuff to take in," he tried his best to produce a nonchalant smile. "I didn't expect to become a team leader. If anyone, it should've been you."

"Not Ren?" Pyrrha managed to get the tone right, but couldn't conceal the blush slowly returning to her cheeks from the compliment.

"Well… he just seems too indifferent to me. I just can't imagine him rallying the rest of us behind him. That said, he'd probably still do a better job than me."

"You're selling yourself short, Jaune," the girl walking next to him smiled. The smile looked strangely sincere. "Ozpin knows what he's doing, and he more than likely has good reasons to have proclaimed you team leader and not me or Ren."

That's supposed to be a good thing?

Finally, the duo entered a massive hall furnished by four rows of tables and decorated by the Academy banners hung all over the place. Further inspection determined their row was the rightmost one, as the entirety of Team RWBY, as well as Ren and Nora, were sitting there. Further away were the members of Team CRDL, having chosen the other end of the table as their spot, away from the rest. Jaune couldn't say he was upset about this.

Quickly closing the distance, he and Pyrrha took place by the remainder of their team, and Jaune just so happened to be seated next to Darius, who was sitting on the opposite side from his team, actively ingesting some scrambled eggs. Turning his head, the boy put down the fork and extended his hand, greeting his freshly arrived comrade. After a second of hesitation, Jaune decided he could not afford the luxury of dismissing friendships, especially those offered to him and not by him, and shook the aforementioned limb.

"Morning then. I suppose you too have questions about my persona. Ask away, but at least hold off with the autographs until I'm done eating, alright?" Having noticed his hesitation, Darius chuckled and continued emptying his plate. Taking a closer look at his features, Jaune noticed that Darius was not in the best shape: shadows around his eyes and a thin red web inside them indicated he hadn't had the best of nights.

"You know, I just won't question Ozpin on this. You don't look too well, though."

"Dust withdrawal," a brief reply followed. "Could be worse, though. At least I did use high quality stuff. Or so I hope."

"The Schnee Dust Company produces the highest quality Dust on the market!" Weiss intervened, going from zero to one hundred in a matter of a second. Jaune saw Yang and Ruby roll their eyes and cover their heads in a desperate attempt to shield themselves from an imminent avalanche of fury that would surely follow. The likeness of their actions caused him to silently chuckle to himself as involuntary comparisons to his sisters back home came to mind.

"Doubting that is either foolishness or an act of sabotage against the company's good name! The audacity…"

"I'm not sure there was one to begin with," a voice followed from a distance, interrupting Weiss' monologue and causing her to flap her eyes in confusion. Turning his head, the boy realized it was Blake sitting slightly away from the rest of the team.

"Oh, so you do speak. Guess I don't have to call the ambulance," Darius said, to which he received a glance full of silent fury, followed by Blake refocusing her attention on the fish she was busy eating.

"But not with me, it seems," he whispered. Darius then looked at Jaune and shrugged, almost like asking what he should do next. Jaune did not have an answer for him. All he could do is shrug in response.

"I guess not everyone was happy to have you on the team." Saying that phrase immediately made him cringe on the inside, as it sounded far better in his mind. Darius, however, seemed perfectly unabashed with his friend's lack of eloquence, simply making a gulp out of a nearby glass filled with orange juice.

"Observant of you. I have settled things with the girls… for the most part," another look at Blake. "Couldn't have expected it to go perfectly smoothly, obviously."

"I'm sure she'll calm down eventually… Right?" Ruby cut in, looking at the two boys with a hopeful stare. The two exchanged puzzled glances, neither knowing the answer nor willing to shatter the girl's faith in humanity.

"We'll break her legs if she doesn't!" A cheerful cry bellowed in the vicinity of Jaune's ear, almost making him leap away on pure reflexes and attracting the attention of everyone at the table in a matter of a heartbeat. The suggestion originated from Nora, who felt it necessary to contribute to the discussion with the tried and true method of approaching differing opinions. In the corner of his eye Jaune noticed Blake inch further away from the group, gazing at Nora with utter fear in her eyes.

"Nora…" Ren spoke, seemingly the only one unfazed by his partner's violent tendencies.

"Yes Ren?"

"I don't think breaking anyone's legs would be the best way to change their attitude."

"But I wanna break something…" the girl said, her voice seeping with disappointment. In complete silence, Ren reached out and grabbed a long breadstick, passing it to Nora. With a deafening crunch, the bread snapped in two as Nora began consuming it, leaving the talks as abruptly as she joined them.

Those are the people I'm going to lead?

"So…" Finally, the silence has been broken by Darius, his eyebrows merging with the hairline from bewilderment. "Just to clarify… Am I still the one who shouldn't be trusted here?"

"Yep," a reply from Yang came. "It's just that you're not the only one now."

"Well, isn't that nice to hear. I am now equal to some common psychopath, apparently."

"Yep. Have I… hammered the point home yet?"

The answer was Darius mumbling something incoherent while desperately trying to morph his hand into a claw, no doubt to tear Yang's heart out. Unsuccessfully so. After drawing a very, very deep breath, he grumbled:

"Can we… just… get to the lecture hall so I don't have to have my ears tortured by your twisted sense of humor? We've only about fifteen minutes before classes start."

"What's our first class?" Jaune asked. His neighbor was silent for a second and then chuckled, having remembered the answer:

"The Art of Grimm with Professor Port," the chuckle grew into quiet laughter as Darius observed the reactions of his companions, clearly nonplussed from such a choice of words. "I'm not kidding, that's how it stands in the timetable. So. Shall we?"

"Welcome, students," Glynda's voice froze everybody in place as the principal emerged from the shadows of the ring, immediately attracting the attention of the teams. "As I have previously mentioned, my name is Glynda Goodwitch and I will be supervising you in your training, particularly in the more… practical aspects of it."

She paused for a moment, throwing a sweeping glance over the roster, never failing to lock eyes with every single person present in the room. As her green eyes met Pyrrha's, the latter felt a small shiver run up her spine and stop at the neck, leaving a feeling similar to that of a thin icicle stuck inside. The principal bore an uncanny resemblance to one of the teachers back in Sanctum. Even now, Pyrrha had to blink a couple of times to ward off flashbacks of Brother Clemens examining the ranks of her former comrades, staring each of them in the eyes with ruthlessness that one wouldn't expect from an individual with such a name. I guess every school has this kind of teachers.

"Any fight with a spawn of Grimm is a fight until death," Goodwitch continued, each word sending echoes in the vast empty space of the arena. "The monsters lack the instinct of self-preservation present in other species of this world and if you engage one, it will not back down no matter what. As such, it is up to me to see that it is the Grimm that fall and not you, which is precisely what I will be doing in the coming four years.

The first semester will be dedicated to establishing an optimal training program for each of you that will allow you to achieve perfect control over your body, your weapons and your Semblance if you follow it throughout your training. Keep in mind that while I can and will help you with laying down the foundation, it is up to you to maintain and improve upon the program. I can guarantee you will not get any better if you keep repeating the same exercises over and over without ever pushing yourself."

She paused, allowing the students to digest the information just spilled on them, while Pyrrha looked around, failing to keep a small smirk from appearing as a reaction to the confused chatter passing through the auditorium. While the combat schools of Remnant did provide their students with basic knowledge of combat efficiency, along with training in various martial arts, the focus was still on unlocking the students' aura and Semblance, as well as letting them get acquainted with the weapons they would use in the future. At this point, the majority of the Hunters-in-training were relying more on the enhanced abilities that unlocked aura provided, rather than leveraging their natural strength and agility, making the notion suggested by Goodwitch more than novel. As her gaze came full circle and paused on her team, she couldn't help but feel that this only raised more questions regarding Jaune's upbringing.

"By the end of the first semester, it will be time for you to take note of the three other people on your team and begin working, and fighting, with them and not just alongside them," Glynda continued, rendering any other voices mute. "Your teams will get assignments in the second semester and you will be supervised by one of the school's teachers. Rest assured that you will need to learn how to work together with your partner and your teammates." Her eyes stopped and then twitched to the right, freezing in place and no doubt freezing the unlucky person that earned her baleful gaze. Following the direction that Goodwitch was looking in, Pyrrha found Ruby cowering in place, hopelessly trying to cease existing. Something told her that even that wouldn't save her. "Furthermore, with the Vytal Festival taking place this year, those of you who choose to participate will face greater challenge still. Without your team, you are doomed to fail.

Still, we may be looking too far into the future," she changed the topic, returning to more pressing matters. "As of now, what I want to do is to gauge your skills. Studying your resumes does provide for some amusing reading before bed, but the truest test to your abilities still lies in the midst of battle. Pyrrha Nikos, Darius Silva. Enter the ring."

As she stepped out of the formation, Pyrrha slightly angled her head to see her future opponent lightly tap on his right side, almost as if he was looking for something. Having ascended the steps and taken her place on one side of the ring, she had her suspicions confirmed as Darius took his mask off a small hook on his waist, putting it on. She shivered again. Who wears a skull on their face?

While yesterday's initiation did not leave her much time to acquaint herself with his way of combat, what she did learn was enough to account for in this battle. He uses double scythes that apparently can merge into a larger one. Can't see any levers on them. Must be enchanted.

I hate enchanted weapons.

As Pyrrha gave this notion more thought, she came to an unsettling conclusion. Everything about Darius in his current form was, in one way or another, opposite and alien to everything she'd been brought up to believe. His pitch-black armor, his Semblance, even the posture. She covered her eyes with her hand and made a deep breath, trying to collect her thoughts. Calm down. This is not the time to dish out prejudice.

The boy standing in front of her raised his right hand and placed his clenched fist on his chest, bowing his head in a salute, then took out his scythes and put them slightly behind his back. Might as well. Pyrrha, too, reached behind her, taking out Miló and Akoúo̱ and saluting Darius by striking her shield with Miló.

"Rules of engagement are as follows," Glynda's words echoed above them as the remainder of the hall sunk into darkness, leaving Darius the only one visible. "The battle ends when your opponent runs out of aura or receives an injury that would prevent them from fighting full-force, period."

With another deep sigh, she looked at Darius again, locking eyes with him. Or such was her intention. For instead of eyes, she had found two orbs of pure darkness, both dripping black mist down his mask, eerily similar to flowing tears, staring straight into her soul.

"Fight!"

Driven by a sudden realization that shit was about to hit the fan, she hastily raised her shield, ready to deflect any blows. A wise decision, as a millisecond later Darius appeared before her in a puff of smoke, both his arms already raised in preparation of an attack. With a muffled sound, he struck twice, and while both hits impacted the shield, such was their force that Pyrrha had to leap away, lest her guard be blown away in the first second of combat. As her feet met the ground, she kept sliding back because of the remaining impact. Letting her momentum dissipate, she put her right foot behind her left one, trying to gain as much traction as possible, preparing a riposte.

Her opponent, however, was not intent on letting her regain the initiative. She heard Darius' boots pound the metal floor of the ring and only just managed to raise the shield again before another strike impacted Akoúo̱. She felt the force of the blow reverberate in her arm, leaving a numb feeling. Can't keep this up for long. Darius followed up with a swipe from the left, leaving his side exposed and presenting an opportunity, just waiting to be seized. And yet, halfway through her counterattack, a curved blade of the scythe swept in to intercept, striking at her wrist and knocking Pyrrha's sword out of her hand. Continuing the motion, Darius rotated his now conjoined scythe another time before transitioning into a lightning-fast horizontal swipe, slashing across her face. Even with her aura shielding her, the blunt force of the blade left a feeling akin to a bundle of fireworks going off in her head as she felt something warm trickle down her temple.

He's not pulling any punches…

Darius went for another swing, this time an overhead, while Pyrrha lunged towards her weapon, ending it with a roll. Still on her knees, she saw a scythe plummeting down on her: she raised her shield again, slightly tilting it so as to misdirect his attack and the blade impaled the floor a mere inch away from her. Without wasting a second, she grabbed his hand, touching the grip of the scythe with it, and pulled it; as both of them headed for the ground, Pyrrha plunged her feet into Darius' stomach, sending him flying behind her, and finished the move with a backwards roll. Got his weapon now.

After getting up and turning around, she watched Darius twist himself in the air, landing on his feet, and immediately disappear in a cloud of mist for a fraction of a second, resurfacing close to her, putting all his weight into a turning swing with his now split scythes. This time, however, she was prepared.

Pyrrha put her shield in front of her and imagined a gentle hand swaying Darius' blade to the side, altering it just enough to only scrape her shield instead of impacting it head on. And yet, as she attempted to shove the scythe away, she was greeted with a burning sensation in her left hand as the enchanted steel revolted, refusing to obey the commands of its new master. Still, her Semblance was about controlling the magnetic fields and not the metal itself, leaving it no choice. The blade helplessly swished by, only lightly touching the angled surface of Akoúo̱, leaving a brief opening for Pyrrha to leverage. She flicked a lever on her sword, beginning the transformation, and simultaneously barged forward, greeting Darius with a powerful shield bash. He tumbled back a couple of steps, just the perfect distance to attack. With her weapon fully transformed into a javelin, she continued her retaliation, giving Darius the boot and following up with a stab aimed at the mask, no doubt an attempt at vengeance for the earlier wound.

Still, the spearhead was flung aside with another spin of the scythe as Darius recovered from the kick and pressed on, intent on keeping the initiative. Alas, such thing is hard to do when one is not fully in control of their weapon. An overhead slash with the straight blade of his scythe was parried, the next two attacks with its split counterparts deflected by Pyrrha's sword and Semblance. Landing a direct blow on Darius' breastplate, she spun around, transforming it into the javelin mid-spin, and sent him flying backwards by striking him with the length of the spear. Leaning on it like a staff, she drew a deep breath, as she desperately needed a break to let the fire in her arm die down before trying to take hold of his weapon again. Even then, she never let Darius out of her line of sight, who appeared to be just standing in front of her, looking at his own scythes.

I really hate enchanted weapons.

She could feel her teeth grinding against each other in frustration. The one and only tournament she had ever lost was to a halberd enchanted similarly to Darius' blades. Infusing weapons with Dust was a very expensive and a very long process, and as the weapon shift took over the market, the already rare armaments subjected to such enchantment became even rarer, hence her utter lack of experience in dealing with them. When she tried to fling the weapon away, she was instead struck with pain so intense she nearly fainted. The opponent did not have much trouble finishing the fight.

Still, as humiliating as it was, that battle taught her a lot of things, and subtlety was the greatest of them all. She learned not to deflect incoming attacks outright, but instead just make them easier to block, thus both lessening the strain from using her Semblance and providing an advantage for herself. Better even, it allowed her to conceal her powers from the others, seemingly winning her battles through her martial prowess alone. Or was there something else? Surely, one could not become a four-times Champion of Mistral without a little help from beyond?..

Her mind was, yet again, brought from the past into the present by commotion on the other side of the ring. The dark mist, previously only coming from Darius' eyes, now poured from his hands as well, enveloping his arms and legs and solidifying into what looked like armor plating, black as night. Furthermore, even his weapons became coated in the nebulous substance, flowing towards the ground yet dissipating millimeters above the floor. Pyrrha could not tell his facial expression behind the mask, but for whatever reason she was certain that Darius was smiling.

How he revels in his own corruption. How he flaunts it. Disgusting.

With Akoúo̱ on the ready, Pyrrha raised her spear, looking at Darius through the small opening created by the curvature of the shield. Predictably, he charged towards her, materializing from smoke for the third time and raising his scythe for an attack. Yet when Pyrrha attempted to control his blade, she found out that she was reaching for nothing, as Darius disappeared on the spot. Horrified by the implications, she began to turn around as a pair of scythes sunk into her back. Were it not for her aura, she would have been dead on the spot, but even it barely stopped the metal from ripping her apart. Pyrrha fell on the floor, only just managing to soften the landing with her hands and coughed, spitting out the blood pouring from the wound on her head. A heavy metal clank reached her ear from behind, but as soon as she turned around to face the threat, Darius' fist, brimming with dark energy, connected with her jaw, sending her high into the air with its inhuman power.

Struggling to find strength not to faint, Pyrrha flipped in the air to see what was happening beneath her. She saw Darius lower his scythe while channeling more energy into it, preparing to meet her on the way down. Shutting her eyes from unbearable pain that flared in her arm, she put all her remaining willpower into slowing down the swing that would otherwise split her in two. Even so, the slash launched her into the air for the second time as Darius continued to juggle her like some plush ball. An orb of dark flame flew towards Pyrrha at the apex of her improvised flight, but was quickly deflected by a well-placed block. To her great surprise, the fire did not burn her hand further, but instead… cooled it down, like a cube of ice placed on the skin, soothing the pain in it.

Still, as her feet touched the ground, Pyrrha couldn't find her balance, sinking on her knee as Darius took a step towards her, quickly throwing his scythe in his left hand while engulfing his right in even more smoke. Suddenly, a torrent of black mist erupted from his extended palm, surging towards Pyrrha. Out of options and in no position to evade the incoming avalanche of dark, Pyrrha did the only thing she could: she raised her shield again. As the darkness collided with Akoúo̱, it flowed around it, obscuring everything: Darius, the ring, even the lights.

Pyrrha was left in complete darkness, neither able to see through the shroud of darkness nor move herself; just barely withstanding the force of the stream as the sounds of metal hitting the floor marked Darius coming closer and closer to her. The cold she felt when deflecting the orb he chucked at her had multiplied tenfold, slowly but surely spreading from her shield arm and onto her entire body, making her teeth chatter. For the first time in her life, death was a very real prospect, and Pyrrha felt fear slither into her heart, gripping it with its icy embrace.

Is this really how it's going to end? Death at the hand of some darkling?

No. Can't be. Light always finds a way. Always.

Whether through adrenaline-caused delirium or divine providence, Pyrrha felt the pressure on her shield subside, sparking both hope and confusion in the young warrior. She had no idea where her certainty was coming from, but she knew that Darius couldn't keep this up for long. She didn't really care either. For once, fate decided to actually help her out, and she was not going to squander this opportunity.

Suddenly, the clanking of Darius' boots stopped and a ray of light tore through the cover of darkness. Seconds later, the stream of smoke stopped as abruptly as it began, and Pyrrha rose, her green eyes locked on one man and one man only. Darius, meanwhile, was standing with his shoulders slumped, leaning on his scythe, not unlike Pyrrha shortly before. Even from behind his mask she heard his ragged breaths, although they were more reminiscent of bestial pants than of human breath. At the sight of his enemy standing up almost unscathed, he emitted a low growl and gripped his blade, starting to walk towards her.

He seems exhausted. Good. With a twist of her spear, Pyrrha raised her weapon, now transformed into a rifle, and fired a shot, hitting Darius in the hand and knocking the scythe out of his hand. Charging towards him with a shield bash, Pyrrha spun Miló again and struck the adversary with her sword, unleashing a flurry of blows as Darius had nothing to defend himself with but his hands. Spinning on her heels and knocking Darius several meters away with a horizontal slash, she dashed towards him and pointed Miló, now in spear form, again, at his throat.

"Yield."

For a few seconds, the ring was silent, only interrupted by Darius' heaves. Then, he raised his head, locking eyes with Pyrrha. She expected to see the same soulless orbs of darkness she gazed into before the fight. What she did not expect was for Darius to grip the spear with his left hand and lunge towards her with an inhuman scream, his other hand already engulfed in smoke. She had no time to raise her shield. Only to shut her eyes.

A second passed. Then, another one. Nothing happened. In disbelief, Pyrrha opened her eyes to determine whether she still remained on this mortal coil. Before her lie a hand with fingers millimeters away from her eyes, dark mist flowing between them. Slightly tilting her head, she saw Darius frozen mid-jump, a spear lodged firmly in his left shoulder. She took a step back, letting go of Miló, and looked around. As if on cue, a plethora of lights switched on, revealing the rest of the amphitheater she had been fighting in for what seemed an eternity to her. Pyrrha glazed over the speechless crowd and let out a tired sigh, feeling shivers run up her spine. That… was much too close. Above her, two screens lit up: one displayed her, the other Darius. Under each mugshot there was a bar. Pyrrha's was about a quarter full, portrayed in bright red color. Darius' was empty.

A dry clatter behind her shattered the silence, and the arena filled with excited chatter, immediately filtered into the background by Pyrrha's mind. She turned away and looked at Professor Goodwitch walking towards the middle of the ring, holding a scroll in one hand and her crop in the other. With a slight wave of the latter, Darius, frozen as he was, was raised up into the air and pulled away from her. A second later, Goodwitch spun her crop in her hand, and Darius fell on the floor, somehow still landing on his feet, where he gripped his mask and almost tore it off, gasping for air.

"The following battle…" Glynda began, "…Demonstrates the importance of overextending and how you should avoid it at all costs. In this case, mister Silva underestimated the endurance of his opponent and poured too much aura into his attacks, leaving him exhausted and Miss Nikos prepared for a counterattack."

He uses aura to power his Semblance? That explains how he has almost none of it left, even though I barely hit him. And really doesn't make me like him any better.

"As you can see…" she proceeded, shifting her gaze onto Darius, who finally regained control of his breath, and was now gripping Pyrrha's spear to stop it from angling too much. "…Darius has barely any aura left. He also received a medium injury. In a tournament-style fight, that would immediately mean his loss and, depending on the severity of the wound, potential disqualification. The purpose of your training, however, is not to look fancy in the tournaments, but instead to kill Grimm. Had it been a real fight, Pyrrha would have had her face ripped off and Darius would come out not much worse for wear than he is right now. As such, I am counting this battle as a draw. Now, onto individual breakdown." She turned towards Pyrrha, who, urged by her reflexes, wanted to salute her, but only swung her hand near her shield, having forgotten she did not actually have her sword with her.

"Miss Nikos has shown a more than admirable performance both in terms of martial prowess and perseverance. Despite being pressured by Mister Silva's… more than aggressive fighting style, she managed to endure the brunt of the attack and exhaust her opponent to the point where he could not produce an adequate response."

It is debatable how intentional that was.

"Her one and only mistake was assuming her opponent would surrender when ordered to. While insignificant, it still almost costed her her life," Glynda's gaze hardened, reaching into the deepest corners of Pyrrha's mind. "Miss Nikos. I would suggest you remember that spawns of Grimm do not back down."

I thought I was fighting a human, not a monster of Grimm?

That's not what you thought back then.

Seemingly done with her, the principal averted her gaze and was now staring down Darius, whose eyes had returned to their natural color, or rather had been revealed to the world again as the last drop of mist vanished without a trace. The spear was still halfway through his shoulder, which he was supporting with his other arm, while his own weapon still lied several meters from him, knocked out by a metal slug.

"While your physical strength and agility allowed you to retain the upper hand throughout the course of the fight, you have major problems when it comes down to measuring the force of your strikes and your aura. You do realize that if Pyrrha had just a little less aura or if I hadn't stopped you at the end, we would have started this year with a casualty?" Despite her tone not changing once throughout her speech, her choice of words made Pyrrha think Glynda was not angry with him. If anything, she appeared… sympathizing? She raised her brow, struggling to understand how Goodwitch could feel sorry for a man that would have killed her in cold blood, had the circumstances been just a little different. Darius' reaction, meanwhile, consisted only of him nodding and a longer than usual sigh. He knows it. Doesn't look like he enjoys it either.

"You will have to learn to control your temper if you want to remain in this academy, Mister Silva, and you will have to learn to use your aura far more efficiently unless you want every fight to end with a wound. As of now, I would advise heading for the medbay. Next contestants: Blake Belladonna and Dove Bronzewing!"

Pyrrha turned towards the stairs, intent on rejoining the crowd, but was stopped by Darius calling out her name. Closing in on her, he gripped Miló even tighter, pushing it through his shoulder and taking it out on the other side, but before the blood started pouring out of the wound, a thin veil of smoke appeared in the hole, sealing the injury for now. Slightly wincing from pain, he presented the bloodied weapon to Pyrrha and said:

"For what it's worth, I'm sorry."