Chapter 16

In the abandoned frozen deserts of Atlas, there wasn't much civilization. The whole continent, though praised as one of the most technologically advanced in the world, was mostly just a frozen wasteland. Dust was the only thing that kept many of the small mining towns afloat, and when those resources ran out, people went out to scrape a meager living doing… anything else.

Unfortunately, some people chose farming. Shovels were broken in the harsh permafrost as the tools that broke through hard rock wasn't even enough to dig meaningful trenches in frozen ground. Eventually, however, summer came, and with the settlers' finances bordering on ruins, the potatoes were dug in with hot water boiled with the dregs of low quality fire dust and a mining pick.

Only about one in ten of these villages survived the initial trial of planting successful potatoes.

But when the food situation was resolved, other problems came up and took their place. These villages would then face the threat of the grimm.

Many a time, these villages would lament their lack of a protector. How they were deemed so unimportant that the government would just leave them on the face of the wasteland after their mining towns lost their profits.

"Why does Vale have a Sasaki Kojiro? Why can't we have somebody like him?" a farmer complained, crowding with many others to watch the news in Vale about an Annual Great Nevermore hunt and said supposed huntsman embarking on the hunt with some of signal's professors.

"Well, he only operates in Vale anyways." Another farmer sighed. "There's still nobody looking out for small folk like us."

Above them, the grimm snarled and barked, searching for their elusive human quarry.

That's right. They were sitting in a fortified cellar… as Grimm roamed the land above. They would eventually leave after the farmers all slept and stopped feeling negative emotions, and be attracted to other villages.

Suddenly, the sounds of shouting reached their ears. Above them, the grimm roared as something was torn in half. Dying wails of the grimm met their ears, as well as rapid footsteps and the weird sound of laser guns being fired.

"Who do you think is doing that?" a child asked, looking up in the dimly lit room at the slightly quaking ceiling. "Has a huntsman come to save us?"

The ceiling suddenly began to crack. The villagers began to panic, getting their pitchforks and rusty mining picks ready and retreating to the walls.

An ominous shifting in the masonry lead to more whimpering.

"Shh!" one of the teens whispered, his aura flaring. A standard rifle-sword was in his hands as a reminder of his old huntsman school days. "You might just attract whatever is trying to get in if you make noise."

"You're just a huntsman dropout!" a weasly-looking farmer whispered, eyeing the sword the young man was carrying.

"I ran out of tuition. There's a difference."

Then, the ceiling crashed in. A woman wearing a rice farmer's hat and carrying two katanas crashed into the cellar, crushing the table that had been placed in the center of the room. With a powerful swing, the grimm in front of her was cleaved in half. Another tiger-like foe jumped into the air and leapt down at the woman, only for her sword to sing through the air. A purple wave of energy was emanated from the strike and neatly bisected the grimm.

Then, she noticed the people staring at her in shock.

"What, never seen a Swordmaster before?"

…

Cypress walked out of the maximum security facility, rubbing his sore wrists as the familiar weight of handcuffs were taken away. Twenty years in that prison on charges of terrorism, and now, he was out.

"Damn you, Sasaki Kojiro." He muttered, walking out onto the streets aimlessly. The passerbys walked by, not recognizing the unshaven face of the supposedly infamous criminal.

"I bet people are going to have to look in the footnotes of that article to remember me."

Cypress could still remember the feeling of the rifle in his hands as he took a shot at the illusion of Kojiro in that god damn truck. He still remembered the feeling of being beaten up for trying to stand up for the rights of the oppressed on live television. How his heart sank when he realized that, despite his sentence, he was still just… a minor character.

Now… His hand itched for his gun. He was going to find the man who had ruined his life… and-

A truck drove by, splashing muddy water all over his clothes. Cypress shook his fist angrily at the driver, but as the truck turned the corner…

He saw him again. That same orange hair and nonchalant look. Those purple robes that clashed horribly with said hair color. And also… that damn truck…

"Damn you, Sasaki Kojiro!" he yelled.

"Mom, why is a hobo man yelling in the street?"

"Because he can't face the fact that his life is a complete failure, and is now blaming the misfortune of his foolish and impulsive actions on somebody else. Now, come along before he gets a white van and some candy."

His soul burning with vengeance… and overwhelming embarrassment, Cypress ran off.

"Wait a minute… All our old hideouts are probably busted! God damn it, Sasaki Kojiro! You motherfu-"

…

"Damn trees. Growing right in the road and being a nuisance." Qrow said, grumbling and taking a swing from his flask. Kojiro got off his truck and sent Neo a scroll message. "What is it now? Did we forget something?"

"I am merely sending Neo a message on how to handle this occurrence of my annual hunt on my official blog." Kojiro said. "After all, I am supposedly one of Vale's protectors."

"Really?" Qrow said. "Twenty years of service… and I'm still a random professor in people's eyes… Why don't I get a blog?"

"Fame is a double edged sword." Kojiro said solemnly, thinking back to his many deaths across the timelines, brought about by duels driven by mere claims of superiority.

"And, do you care to elaborate on that very specific piece of advice?" Qrow said, already looking to walk away into the forest.

Kojiro did not respond, as was expected. He patted the side of the slightly weathered storage container and adjusted the old, threadbare traffic safety talisman on his wallet, before walking into the shady woods.

"Those birds won't slay themselves, Qrow. And you've probably been getting rusty. Even Tai can't keep track of all the places you've had a drunken brawl at."

"Your point being?"

"… If you trained for one minute for every pint of whiskey you drank, you would probably have surpassed Tai a long time ago."

"Where are we going anyways?" Qrow said, trying to change the topic. Idly, he began fiddling the trigger on Harbringer.

"Mt. Glenn." Kojiro said, his sword unsheathed as he absentmindedly sliced an incoming leaf in half. "Apparently there have been reports of loud noises coming from within the tunnels. There might be an infestation."

"I thought this was a Nevermore hunt, though?"

…

Also in the forests surrounding Mt. Glenn was another rparty of people. These explorers, however, were far from benign. The white, bloodstained masks they wore certainly gave a hint as to what their identities were.

"Here it is, men. Mt. Glenn." Their leader said, brushing away branches and thorns to reveal the dilapidated city. The oppressive grey and the unfinished structures covered in vines still smelled like a construction site.

It was here that their plans would unfold. To induct grimm into the city and tear away the complacency that had addled social change for the past decades.

"Remember, we were chosen as the best and the brightest of the White Fang to further our goals of equal rights."

"Is that why we left those basket cases of members behind?" somebody in the crowd shouted. Several others snorted in laughter.

"Why do we keep getting the leaders that like long, dramatic speeches?" somebody fiddling with a twig mumbled, slightly disgruntled.

"Yeah. And would it have killed them to allow me to bring some horn polish? It's really starting to itch-"

"Silence!" the complaints silenced themselves.

"Yes. Our less… competent members are about as useful as a fully amputated person. And somehow, still more clumsy. Anyways, we are here to locate the metro tunnels… and the previous search party that got lost in those tunnels."

"How do they get lost in a straight line? There's only one, straight tunnel to Vale and Mt. Glenn. And why-"

"Don't you remember the mission briefing?" Auburn said, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Yeah, but why would you just repeat everything in it again, Auburn?" the fiddler threw away the twig and glared.

"We're not complete idiots... like the previous party. It's almost like you're providing exposition for somebody." Somebody near the front of the group said, scratching his head.

"Augh, I know, alright? It's just… I just wanted to be important once in a while, you know?" Auburn paced around the clearing, looking for the correct words to steer the conversation back on track. "As your leader, I-"

"Yo, wassup?" a raspy voice said casually.

Everybody jumped, before turning to look at a caped drunk man leaning on a tree. A branch groaned and creaked, before falling and hitting the man on the head. The drunk man didn't even react to the falling projectile as his aura flared.

"So… what's this I hear about a mission?" Qrow said, a hint of suspicion in his voice. Kojiro took one look at the white masks on their faces and raised an eyebrow.

For a moment, the two groups stood in silence. Some White Fang members slowly reached for their guns, while Kojiro's hand slowly crept upwards towards his katana. The wind blew through the clearing that they were standing in, making the leaves cascade around the group.

Only Auburn and Qrow remained relatively at ease, though it wasn't easy with Kojiro and the other members practically having a standoff.

Auburn took one look at the gigantic, mechashift weapon on Qrow's back, however, and relented. There was no way that they could walk away and brave the grimm in the city.

"We're… uh… treasure hunters!" Auburn said. "A source told us that the tomb of the King of Vale was in these parts."

Qrow's face instantly turned red as he took a drink out of his flask to suppress a laugh. It didn't work. What came out was a series of burbling coughs that turned his face even redder.

And with that, the tension was broken. Kojiro's hand retreated from his sword handle and returned to being tucked up his sleeve.

"And, ahem." Qrow cleared his throat, putting away his flask. "Why are you wearing White Fang uniforms?"

There was even more silence. The standoff resumed. Kojiro's eyes glinted with anticipation, looking at the badly disguised ready stances that the terrorists were in.

"Because we're… treasure hunters that… work for a charity that is associated with the nonviolent civil rights advocacy group, the White Fang! All profits will go to… uh…"

"Buying… supplies?"

"Food drives, yes! Thank you, Brad! A-anyways, we must be off! For treasure, my comrades!"

After a brief period of confused muttering, whispered yells, and impatient kicks from their leader, the terrorists began to hurry away from the two. Qrow finally let loose and began laughing.

"What's so funny?"

"There is no tomb of the last king of Vale." Qrow said, smirking. "I… uh… know a guy. Still, want to see what these terrorist wannabes are doing?"

"I thought we were going to hunt nevermore." Kojiro said, slightly disappointed. "Who knows, I may even find a dr-"

"Whatever. We purge nevermore every year. Why not… have a little fun?"

…

"You all sure you'll be fine in Mt. Glenn?" Qrow said, sitting on top of a ruined wall, his hand on his weapon thing. Kojiro, meanwhile, stood on top of the wall and surveyed the landscape. His eyes drifted from building to building, looking in the windows carefully.

"God damn it, I thought we lost these guys." Auburn said.

Taking a deep breath, he put on a fake smile. "We'll be okay!" Auburn said. "We have…"

The group of about twenty or so White Fang members turned to confer with each other as Qrow smirked.

"We have… these!" somebody held an automatic weapon into the air. "We'll be able to take care of ourselves."

"Well, we're huntsmen." Qrow said, flashing his license. "And that over there is Sasaki Kojiro."

A weapon and several jaws were dropped on the ground. The owner of said weapon hastily picked the military grade rifle up, inspecting it for damage.

"Don't worry." Qrow grinned. "We'll keep you all perfectly. Safe. One hundred percent. Of the way."

…

It was nightfall as the group camped outside of the city of Mt. Glenn. The stars shone dimly as the shattered moon stole the spotlight from those distant pinpricks. In the peaceful woods, the ambience that only nature could provide was broken several whispers and the crackling of a dim campfire.

"What do we do about those two, Auburn? They obviously know something's up."

Though the sleeping bags of the two outsiders were placed out of range of the light of the campfire, night vision meant that they could still see parts of the bag clearly. A slight scent of alcohol and not-so-slight snores came from said sleeping bags.

"One of them is Sasaki Kojiro… And the other one is just a drunk huntsman. If they were both just regular huntsman, we could just kill em and be done with it. But the other one… Did you check his blog?"

"It's filled with fucking emojis and pictures of ice cream. Ice cream!"

The member with his scroll open was hit over the head with the butt of a rifle. "Quiet!"

"Sorry." He muttered. "Oh, and I guess it did kind of link a video talking about a 'Great Annual Nevermore Hunt' or something. The post said he was going to Mt. Glenn to purge some Grimm."

"Great." Auburn groaned. "If we get rid of him, people are going to know something's up here. And we can't kill that other huntsman either."

The snores intensified. Auburn's hand drifted even closer to his knife. If only he could just… get rid of that noise.

"So… what should we do?"

"Play along." Auburn said, a determined, yet exasperated look on his face. "The White Fang is technically a civil rights organization. Even if they know we're in it, they can't prove we're terrorists."

"But… boss? We kind of are-"

"Carrying around weapons isn't illegal, Lloyd!"

"I-I know, it's just… yeah. I guess I am being a bit too paranoid."

"What we do…" Auburn said, "Is that we abandon those idiots in the tunnels and find them ourselves. Then, we get out with their help and report back to the base."

"But… huntsmen."

"If we don't do anything suspicious, they can't-"

"What are you all talking about?" Kojiro said, walking straight into the clearing they were camping out in.

Auburn almost fell out of his chair.

"You guys said you were treasure hunters, right?"

"Y-yeah?"

"There's something unnatural over there. Might want to go check it out." Kojiro said, pointing somewhere to the west.

"Really?"

With their faunus night vision, they were able to spot the weirdest mountain they had ever seen. The city was in the background of the mountain, but what was odd was that it was… almost entirely made of dirt. Dirt that didn't host any vegetation. On top of the mound was a very large rock, almost the size of a small mountain itself.

"That is pretty weird." Auburn muttered. "I guess we could go check it out."

"Qrow! Wake up!" Kojiro said, nudging said huntsman with his foot.

"What is it now?" he grumbled, the cool night air restoring some semblance of consciousness.

"There's this really tall dirt mountain." Kojiro said. "Who knows? There might actually be a tomb in there."

"You do know there's no tomb for the last King of Vale, right?" Qrow muttered, rubbing his eyes and shrugging off the sleeping bag.

"Well, yes, but who knows what the mound could be hiding?" Kojiro said, a slight glint of amusement in his eyes. "Perhaps it is something that seals away a gigantic monster, or a base for research. Either way, it is possible that our expedition may be more exciting than we anticipated."

…

"That big rock really is far up, huh?" somebody remarked.

"Yeah. It's almost like somebody just put a rock up there and forgot about it. What was it going to be made into, a carved town hall or something?"

"Shut up." Auburn snapped in irritation. "Let's just dig into it and see what it's all about."

The excavation began. Kojiro immediately climbed up to the top of the rock-mountain thing and began to swing his sword in the moonlight. Qrow took this opportunity to drink even more, somehow, even though he hadn't refilled his flask for an entire day.

As a bit of sweat tricked underneath his brow, Kojiro could feel the impact of many pickaxes slamming against the stone he was standing on, occasionally shifting his footing unwillingly.

Seconds turned into minutes. Minutes turned into hours. Eventually, dawn almost broke upon the mountains and the first rays of light in this day spilled from the horizon blocked partially with unfinished buildings, tinting the clouds with a brilliant shade of orange.

Just as Kojiro took in the humid, morning air, somebody finally spoke up.

"Uh… boss? I think we hit something… scaly."

"Scaly, you say?" Auburn said, walking over to the hole where everybody else had digging. Kojiro slid down from the perch he was sitting on and looked at the mass of black surrounded by roughly carved stone. Members of the supposed treasure hunters lay slumped over on the ground, though about half of them were probably faking exhaustion.

"Now that I think about it… this rock is oddly dragon shaped. Did anybody else notice when we were climbing this mountain?" Kojiro said, putting a hand on the strangely smooth dark substance.

"Dragon?" Qrow said, raising an eyebrow. "Like… in the fairy tales?"

"Is there any other type of dragon?" Kojiro said. "Alas, if I could only fight one of those beasts. That fight would certainly be exhilarating."

"If your luck is bad enough, then your wish might come true." Qrow said, patting Kojiro on the shoulder.

The rock chose that moment to start to crumble. What sounded ominously like breathing began to wind through the now obviously hollow rock and come out as a moist, wet gust. The scales began to slowly ripple, an almost ephermial force flowing through the scaly mass. Under Kojiro's touch, the rocky texture slowly shifted into something that was oddly organic.

"Well… shit."

Uncapping his flask, Qrow drank. Kojiro slowly unsheathed his katana, staring at the rock intently.

The terrorists, meanwhile, began to strategize.

…

"Hey, Oz." Qrow slurred, the shakiness of the scroll indicating his slight drunkenness.

"Beautiful morning, isn't it?" Ozpin said.

"Yeah. The sky is a nice shade of pale green." Qrow said, looking upwards with a stupid smile on his face.

"How goes the Nevermore hunt?" Ozpin sighed, a kind, if not slightly irritated smile on his face, and for once, he looked relaxed. A cup of hot cocoa was in his hands as his eyes slowly wandered across the screen, looking for Kojiro.

"Oh, yeah. It's been interesting. We found a dragon inside this rock." Qrow said, turning and showing the scales on camera.

The mug was dropped. The coffee spilled across the applications that Ozpin was apparently sorting.

"Don't you need those papers?" Qrow said. "Aren't Beacon first round admission results going to be announced in… two weeks?"

"Qrow, evacuate the mountaintop! Do not let whoever dug out the Grimm get word out about this!" Ozpin shouted.

"It's just… another grimm though, right?" Qrow said, pointing at the scales and stumbling. "I mean, it could just be a really large grimm snake this time!"

"I was wondering where Salem put that dragon." Ozpin said, muttering. "I guess it was right in Mt. Glenn, which explained why the city fell to the grimm so quickly. But, how did nobody discover it? Was it maybe-"

Qrow was promptly kicked off the cliff. A terrorist picked up the scroll.

"Professor Ozpin, was it not? Of Beacon Academy?"

In the background, men began to shout. Kojiro's blade whirred into action, hitting away terrorists or whittling down their auras. The pop of automatic weapons going off in the background were matched with the sound of a whirring sword and the soft footsteps of shoe on stone.

"It's too late now." Auburn said, grinning, holding up his own scroll. "Check the internet lately?"

"Ozpin!" Glynda shouted. "Somebody's been posting about a giant grimm waking up in Mt. Glenn! All of Vale is panicking!"

"What? Already? But…The posts…" Ozpin said, opening up another desktop on his holographic computer.

"Greetings from the White Fang. With this giant beast unleashed, your institutions will be no more, and from the ashes… A new Remnant will rise…"

"Stop being overdramatic and help us with this freak!" somebody shouted, trying to fend off one of Kojiro's attacks. "I've had enough of your dramatic spee-ouch!"

"Hey! It's not often you get to talk with Beacon's headmaster!"

"Well, your conversation is at an end anyways." A smooth voice said. In the background, a flash of purple and red swooped in as Auburn went flying off of the rock into the dirt mound below.

"So. Headmaster. Long time no see." Kojiro said, holding the scroll in one hand while dodging and deflecting bullets with the other.

"Kojiro. We need you back at Vale. Now." Ozpin said.

"Really? If this were a dragon, all I would have to do is just, well… kill it."

"You can't kill a grimm dragon on your own, Kojiro." Ozpin said, his forced calm tone bordering on impatient. "Its scales are as thick as the length of your sword."

"This beast will fall, like any other grimm."

"Kojiro, please." Ozpin said, his brown eyes glowing green. "Be serious. Vale needs its protector right about now, to stave off the negativity. Besides, I know that you killed a swallow or whatever, but whatever creature that is will prove to be no match for the dragon in that mountain. "

"Get 'em!" the White Fang members shouted. Guns began to fire and several rocks were thrown. As Kojiro began to run at the enemy, he also began to explain.

"Well, did I regale you of the tale of when I first slew a swallow? I may have told team STRQ, but not you, I think-"

"Just get back here." Ozpin said, groaning. "And are you really going to explain now?"

"You did ask me."

"Get James on the phone, Glynda. Kojiro, stay on the call. We need Atlas to contain the Wyvern before it emerges, and you're probably the only one not drunk enough to explain the situation."

…

Ten minutes later, as Kojiro sat on top of the slowly crumbling mountaintop and described the fourth version of his Swallow lore, Ironwood considered sending a psychologist along with the plethora of scientists and specialists.

…Ironwood himself was going to need it. After listening to Kojiro's bad storytelling, Ironwood was convinced that either the swordsman was insane, came from some other dimension, or dropped on the head as a child.

In the background, the terrorists whimpered in both fear and pain, and the long, deep breaths of an ancient beast echoed in the night.

The world had entered a new era.

The Dragon Countdown had begun.