141

Chapter 141:

Shortly after the Great War:

The soldiers made their way through the forest at a slow pace, rifles at the ready, primed for the first signs of attack. The sun was beginning to sink beneath the western horizon. A day's long march had been strangely fraught with tension, for how peaceful it had been.

Such was understandable. They were scouting out the lands of a new continent after all. While the expedition had made landfall, established a beachhead, and built a base of operations, it would be a little while before it could be called a functioning colony yet. First, the perimeter would need to be established, the Grimm pushed back, and favorable territories located. Once that was done, then they could begin the process of bringing over civilians and truly starting lives in this new land.

Looking back, that had probably been the pitfall that had been the downfall of previous attempts to establish settlements on Leng. They had all been more haphazard attempts, at least according to history. Someone; maybe a business leader, maybe a disaffected noble, or a noble looking to accumulate more power and renown; would turn to their attention to the unclaimed lands of Leng. After loading up a ship full of civilians and soldiers, over they would go.

Sometimes, there seemed to be success at first. But then, contact would break off. It would be as though the settlement had never existed. More than once, a failed attempt had completely destroyed the welfare of the primary backer...if said backer hadn't disappeared along with the settlement itself.

But this was different. This time, the authorities of two separate Kingdoms were behind this attempt. And they were going about it much more systematically and carefully. First, soldiers and Huntsmen were being sent over, acting with the intent to ensure things were safely prepared for the civilians to come.

Leng had already had a stigma attached to it. Because of its distinct shape, it was often referred to as "The Dragon that Devours All Comers". But, once the Great War had broken out, attempts to settle the continent had been set aside, particularly because, with land disputes having been the initial cause of the Great War, no one wished to simply open a new front of the conflict in a completely undeveloped and unknown land.

But now that the war had ended, the treaty of Vytal had systematically divided the territory of Leng amongst the four Kingdoms. And Vale was heading the first attempt. In a display of cooperation and goodwill, the newly reformed Kingdom of Atlas was working alongside them, providing additional power and technology that would help to clear this forsaken land of the Grimm that had most likely been responsible for the failures of the previous attempts. After all, even amongst the already-established territories of the Kingdoms, many was the ambitious settlement that had fallen, thanks to its residents underestimating the danger the Grimm posed. There would be no mistakes of that nature here.

As such, these men and women were now on the move through the forest, carefully mapping the terrain, determining what places would make for a good settlement. They were venturing quite far, expected to spend a week on their survey, before returning to their main base.

Of course, moving through unfamiliar terrain was a harrowing experience. There was no telling what varieties of Grimm lurked amongst the trees, or when they would strike. That the scouting party had gone this far without encountering any was a worrying sign. One might think that no Grimm were the best scenario to deal with. However, abnormal behavior amongst the Grimm was dangerous behavior, usually the sign of something unexpected...and inordinately dangerous...coming.

"How much farther before we can set up camp," asked the man in the lead, sweeping his rifle back and forth.

"I think the captain wants to go for another mile," said his companion. "Creepy or not, we're making good time. We're getting more done this way."

"I don't feel like we're doing anything. It's the surveyors who are doing all the mapping. We're just here to point guns around. But there's nothing to point the guns at."

"Just be glad. The last thing I'd want is for a Beowolf to come running at us now...and it'd all be because you had to open your big mouth."

"We'll be fine," said the first man, grinning. "After all, we've got Atlas watching our backs, right?"

He gestured back at black body plodding along slowly behind them, moving with halting steps. Spindly legs, built from a succession of pistons and joints supported a blocky torso, with two arms emerging from where roughly the shoulders would be on a human. Said arms were angled and rectangular, meeting a jointed elbow. Extending down from there, each arm sported a rapid-firing rifle. From the top of the blocky torso, a head formed from what appeared to be a succession of stacked disks of varying widths extended out, the topmost layer sporting a red visor. Above the head, a set of antennae extended straight upwards. The machine's head swiveled back and forth slowly.

"These Knights are supposed to be looking out for us, right?" said the first soldier. "With them here, it's not like we have to worry too much. They'll see any Grimm coming before we do."

His companion snorted. "I don't trust them...damn tin soldiers. You can't expect a machine to do a person's job."

"Guys up top are talkin' like they're the future of the military though. Imagine not having to risk our necks anymore."

"Imagine not having a job because some machine can do it better, and for cheaper, than you."

"...I see your point.

"But it's weird, isn't it? I mean, maybe it's paranoid to expect the forests to be crawling with Grimm. But you'd expect at least a few, right?"

"Yeah. I mean, weren't there a couple when we landed?"

"But, ever since we headed out, we haven't seen a single one."

"That's because all the Grimm in the area have been eliminated."

The two men jumped, their eyes snapping to the front, rifles rising up to aim as someone stepped out from behind a tree in front of them.

It was a man, sporting short, black hair. Dark-gray eyes, almost black, looked out from over flat, chiseled cheeks. He was dressed in a black shirt and pants, with loose fitting sleeves and legs. He stepped out into the open, before turning to face the two soldiers, as well as the group behind them.

The man spoke in a deep voice, uninflected and dispassionate. "Go no farther," he said.

"Um..." The two soldiers turned to look to each other in confusion. "Who are you?"

"I am one of the warriors charged with security in this area," said the man plainly. "Without official approval, outsiders cannot be permitted to enter our lands carelessly. Please go back and await further contact from us."

"From who...?" asked the first soldier.

"The Mibu," said the man. "You are intruding in our domain."

"Domain...?"

"What's going on?" asked an authoritative voice from behind them. The crackle of loam and branches on the ground heralded the approach of the leader of their scouting party.

"Great...it's the Huntsman," muttered the soldier.

Another development after the Great War had been the emergence of official Huntsmen and Huntresses. Such individuals, who made it their profession to deal with the Creatures of Grimm, had existed in one form or another for as long as anyone could remember. However, the provisions of the Vytal Treaty had enshrined them as having authority that could supersede even that of the military, under certain circumstances. They were considered experts on dealing with the Grimm, and matters related to such, which included the establishment of new settlements.

Of course, the rank and file weren't always happy to be bossed around by people they often considered jumped-up pest exterminators, even if they could perform superhuman feats, thanks to the mysterious force known as Aura, and their willingness to employ advanced weaponry. They were supposed to be the best and brightest.

The man leading this scouting expedition wasn't exactly popular, though that wasn't any fault of his. Without anything to prove himself against, a Huntsman couldn't exactly establish his credentials that easily. Adding to that, the fact that he'd been appointed to command this scouting expedition, regardless of the rank and seniority of any of the soldiers present, wasn't the sort of thing to win him any support from the troops. Rumor had it he was working to support an impoverished family, which seemed to suggest that, for all their importance, Huntsmen weren't any better at managing their finances than anyone else.

Still, there was no question that Flavius Arc cut an imposing figure. He wore a suit of full-plate armor, painted alabaster white, like it was nothing. A pair of gold crescents, with the curved side facing up were painted across his chestplate. At his left hip rested a sword with a blue handle and gold cross-guard, residing in a white sheath. His head was decorated with blonde hair, matching with the fair complexion of his skin, and the deep-blue of his eyes. It was swept back, being tied into a short braid that descended to just between his shoulders, while the man's angled chin was decorated with a short beard.

Flavius Arc stepped forward, pushing between the two soldiers to stand before the unknown man. "Who the hell are you?"

"I am one of the warriors stationed in this territory," said the man. "I cannot allow you to advance any farther."

"There were people here?" muttered Flavius, frowning. "Are you from one of the previous settlements? Why have you been out of contact for so long?"

"We are not," said the man. "We have always resided in these lands."

"That's impossible," declared Flavius. "We would have heard about it, if there were already people here." Or maybe not. For the first time, Flavius wondered if anyone had actually checked to see if Leng was already inhabited. It seemed like such a basic oversight, but this continent had been considered unclaimed by default for as long as anyone in the Kingdoms could remember. A chill ran down his spine as Flavius suddenly wondered if all the previous attempts at colonization had failed because of something other than the Grimm.

"We do not have dealings with the outside world," declared the black-garbed man. "We have no more than a passing interest in the affairs of the Kingdoms, and wish to be left alone. Now that you know that, you should return and inform your superiors that any further intrusion into our lands will not be tolerated."

"How far are your lands?" asked Flavius. "We haven't seen any sign of people here, so it's hard to gauge where your borders fall."

"To the sea," said the man simply.

"What?" grunted Flavius.

"Our borders extend all the way to the sea," said the man. "The moment you set foot on land, you were intruding. The whole of this continent belongs to the Mibu."

Flavius reeled back, eyes wide with shock. "Wha-what...? You can't be serious! You can't just lay claim to a whole continent like that."

"We have," said the man. "None have disputed this, until now. If you wish to dispute it, you must await the arrival of a representative of our government. But, until one arrives, you will need to return to where you came from, and wait."

"Now hold on!" protested Flavius. "This land is officially territory of Vale. This was established by the Treaty of Vytal."

"Since no one bothered to ask us before deciding such a thing, that is not our concern," said the man. "We do not recognize the claim of Vale to this land. Again, if you wish to dispute this, you must await the arrival of an official from our government."

Flavius looked around, feeling slightly confused. "Wait...if you're out here...does that mean that there is a settlement nearby?"

"There is," said the man. "However, I cannot permit you to approach any closer to it. My duty is the protection of the people who reside in this area. Permitting an unknown force to approach our civilians is unacceptable."

"And if we try to proceed?" asked Flavius, his eyes narrowing.

In response, the man flicked his right wrist. Seemingly out of nowhere, a trio of blades appeared between his fingers. They were over a meter in length, with slender, double-edged blades, like rapiers. They were joined to dull-red hilts that were strangely short, certainly not a good fit for swordsmanship. They were held between his fingers, positioned so that they extended out from the knuckles. At present, the man kept his arm lowered, so the pointed tips of those swords were angled down, ensuring that they weren't a direct threat. But the implication was still the same.

"Then I will take action to stop you," said the man.

Upon the appearance of those blades, the soldiers had immediately leveled their rifles at the man. Even the android accompanying them had raised its arms, leveling the guns mounted on them at this unknown threat. Flavius stood calm at the front though, making no moves of his own, his hand not even straying towards his sword.

"I see," he said, then took a step back. "Very well then. Do you know where to find our encampment?"

"I do," said the man. "A representative from our government should arrive shortly. Until then, do not make any attempts to spread outward."

"I'll inform our commander," said Flavius, before turning around. "Let's head back," he said to the soldiers.

The soldiers traded uneasy glances. They had no idea who this man was, where he had come from, or if he truly represented the people he claimed to. It was hard to believe that there was anyone living in this land. Still, they had gotten an ominous feeling from the man, and felt that falling back was a better choice than fighting him.

The man watched them go, not moving a step, even after the scouting party had disappeared from sight. A second later, he was no longer alone.

"You let them go?" asked the man who'd joined him, sporting a black greatcoat. The short, spiky, dark-gray feathers that covered his head in lieu of hair were swept backwards over his head, his forehead extending down to an angled nose that gave him a slightly hawklike aspect. Amber eyes stared after the departing scouting party.

"There is no need for unnecessary violence," said the first man. "If they can be convinced to leave peaceably, then so much the better."

"I agree," said the second man, folding his arms over his chest. "But this still worries me. A Shadowrunner is conveying our report to Onmyo. We'll have to see who they send over."

"Hopefully, it will be someone reasonable," said the first man.

They'd still needed to make camp, as there was no way they could be expected to simply spend all night marching back the way they came. Fortunately, it seemed that the Mibu, whoever they were, were not offended by that fact, and there was no harassment, or black-garbed warriors informing them they needed to keep moving. After the night had passed, and morning had come, they marched straight back to their main encampment. The unexpectedly early return was met with confusion, confusion that was simultaneously alleviated and compounded when Flavius explained the reason for their scouting expedition being cut short.

"So...you're saying that these people claimed to have lived here...for some unknown period of time?" asked Blair Albion, the expedition's overall leader.

She was an older woman, having been in her prime when the Great War had been at its height. Still, her strength and skills had hardly degraded since then. Even now, she was more than capable of besting Flavius with the square-tipped sword that rested in its sheath, currently hung on a rack on the wall of the headquarters, directly behind and over her head.

Her pure-white hair was cropped to just shy of her head being shaved completely bald. She watched Flavius with angled, pale-gray eyes, resting over slightly rounded cheeks. Clad in burnished-gray armor, devoid of decorations of any kind, she was an intimidating presence in the encampment. She'd apparently served in the Royal Knights, the unit that personally protected the King of Vale...however little such protection seemed to have been needed by him. When the unit had been disbanded, she had been officially declared a Huntress, one of the twenty that had accompanied this phase of the expedition, and its overall leader.

"That is what this man claimed," said Flavius, doing his utmost to stand firm under the woman's flinty gaze. The Arc Family had a long history. And while he had never personally served in the Great War, as his father had, he had served long and well, protecting his home settlement from the Grimm, single-handedly, during the final days of the war. Because of that, he refused to sully his family name by allowing himself to be intimidated.

"And you believed him?" asked Blair, her eyes narrowing dangerously.

"At this point, whether we believe him or not is immaterial," Flavius answered. "Upon meeting him, I determined that conflict would have been dangerous, and chose to withdraw for the time being."

"Is that so..." growled Blair. "You abandoned your duty because a single man told you turn back."

"He was not alone," replied Flavius. "There were more, possibly as many as five, with him, but I couldn't get a fix on their locations. More than that, his combat capability was Huntsman-level, at least, as were the others. In a fight, there was no way I could protect the soldiers, not with that many high-level opponents."

"Such risks are what they signed up for," declared Blair dismissively.

"With all due respect, that is not the case," declared Flavius. "The soldiers signed up under the belief that the risk would be from Grimm, not conflict with native inhabitants."

"Because there are no native inhabitants!" declared Blair furiously. "There is no way someone could have settled this continent for so long without anyone outside noticing it! These fools are clearly claim-jumpers, attempting to establish a history here, so that they can circumvent the authority of the Vytal Treaty. They are nothing more than thieves!"

"I...very much doubt that," said Flavius.

It wasn't so much concrete evidence that convinced him of that, but rather his personal impression of the man that had confronted him. Flavius had been able to sense the man's conviction, like that of solid steel, if not more. Even had he been facing a force many-times larger and more powerful, he wouldn't have wavered in his duty to keep them from advancing farther.

A mere thief would not possess such determination.

There was also his wording, the way he'd explained how the matter would be dealt with. Saying that a "representative of their government" would come implied a substantially-organized government, suggesting something that was possibly on the level of a Kingdom, thought that might have been a stretch...but a fair-sized city-state at least. However, for them to boldly claim ownership of the entire continent like that...

"We shall see," said Blair, rising in her seat. "When their so-called representative arrives, if he does, then we shall determine if your caution is warranted. If not, you will be reprimanded for cowardice, Arc. Perhaps you'll even be sent back, if you haven't the spine to do what it takes to build a future for Vale here."

A shiver went down Flavius' spine at the threat. After all, this expedition carried the hopes and dreams of his family; wild and untamed lands, rich with untapped resources. The first arrivals could expect the best options to create new lives for themselves and their families. If he could secure the rights to a decent Dust deposit, he would be able to claim at least a few indentured laborers to develop it, which would unquestionably support his family for generations to come. His family was depending on that potential wealth.

But still...if someone already lived on this continent, and expressed a claim to it, where did that leave him? After hearing his father talk about the horrid experience that had been the Great War, and the greed that had been the fuel for it, the last thing that Flavius wanted to do was start and fight a new war in a strange land. This hadn't been what he'd signed up for at all.

"Can't we call back to Vale and ask them to send a diplomat?" inquired Flavius.

Blair spat to one side, her expression contemptuous. "We're out of range," she declared. "For all their promoting, the Atlesian's precious Cross-Continent-Whatever doesn't seem to reach out this far. The fancy relays they provided are only good for local-area transmissions.

"Besides, there is no need for diplomacy, I will make our position clear, and these squatters will either need to leave, or agree to our terms. If they cooperate they might be integrated, but our own requirements will need to be met first."

Flavius swallowed, his throat dry.

Blair narrowed. "By the way, when is this representative of theirs to arrive?"

"Um...the man didn't say," said Flavius, a cold sweat breaking over his brow.

"Of course he didn't," scoffed Blair, rolling her eyes. "Get out of my sight. We will wait five days. If there is no contact by then, then this was clearly an effort by them to stall for time. If that's the case, then we will continue as planned, and deal with these interlopers when we find them. You will also be confined, then sent on the next ship back to Sanus, with a full report of your ineptitude. I hope your family will be capable fo picking up the slack, when they learn what a failure you are"

Dismissed, Flavius left headquarters with a heavy heart.

Their base was another contribution from Atlas. Light, yet sturdy materials made up the pristine white walls of prefabricated buildings, which could be transported easily and assembled quickly. Along with the perimeter-wall, they had allowed their base of operations to be established within a day or their arrival. With their backs to the sea, and a strong wall facing the interior, they were able to hold off the Grimm with ease. However, this was a temporary arrangement, until they could find superior locations, and build more permanent structures.

For his actions, Flavius was not surprised to receive a ribbing from his fellow Huntsmen and Huntresses, with even the soldiers giving him scornful looks every now and then, most of them judging him to be a coward for backing down against a scant handful of adversaries. Of the Huntsmen and Huntresses, only a small number, including his oldest friend, Sara, trusted his judgment. Aside from those few, only the soldiers who had accompanied him directly didn't participate in the jeering, mainly because they realized that it had been concern for their wellbeing that had prompted him to withdraw in the first place. But that meant little in the grand scheme of things…

As did everything else, when the representative of the Mibu arrived three days later.

The lookouts were the first to spot the new arrivals. However, their warning didn't come until the Mibu's representative, along with what appeared to be ten warriors, were right at the base's gate, almost as though they'd materialized out of thin air.

Flavius was amongst the first to reach the gate, his nerves primed for the first signs of hostility. He was there when the gates opened to reveal their guests. The Mibu's representative stood at the front and center, ahead of a group of ten black-garbed warriors. Amongst them, Flavius spotted the man who had confronted them before, also sensing the presence of the ones that had been shadowing him making up at least half of their number. They were a diverse group, with only the uniform blackness of their clothing really binding them together as a unit. Some were dressed in loose-fitting robes, similar to the kind the shinobi of Mistralian lore were reputed to have worn. Some had hoods or masks, while others were dressed more plainly. There was no uniform pattern to the weapons they carried either, what weapons were visible in any case. All told, the air they gave off did speak of Huntsmen to Flavius and the others watching.

The jeers from his peers had certainly fallen silent at the sight of this formidable party, who were now entering into their base with every appearance of total confidence, despite being outnumbered by the some two-hundred soldiers and twenty Huntsmen that were staffing the place.

However, it was the woman at the front of their party who took up the bulk of the attention.

She was a sallow-faced woman who, despite the youthfully smooth texture of her skin, nonetheless sported slightly-hollowed cheeks set into a narrow face that gave her an almost-gaunt look. Her black hair was tied up in a simple tail behind her head, before trailing down past the level of her waist, contrasting sharply with the mantle of white feathers that enshrouded her body. The feathers shifted, and Flavius realized he wasn't actually staring at a mantle, but a set of wings, which the woman had folded up around herself like a cloak. The Mibu's representative was a faunus.

Glancing at the rest of the party, Flavius could see several other faunus amongst their number, most-notably the gray-feathered head of the hawklike man standing beside the warrior that had stopped their advance before. All told, almost half of their party appeared to be made up of faunus.

The grumbling started immediately.

Numerous faunus had served on both sides of the conflict, during the Great War. In doing so, they had established that they were not mere animals to be hunted and persecuted. They had often served brilliantly, leveraging things like their superior night-vision or special traits they might have retained from the particular animals they inherited their traits from. In doing so, they had won a degree of respect, particularly from the soldiers who had served alongside them, and the commanders who'd found victories to be much easier with their support.

In return for the collective service of the faunus, the Vytal Treaty had gone so far as to grant them a place of their own, a continent, practically a fifth Kingdom...at least, that was how it had been spoken of by those who had written up the treaty, predictably without any input from the faunus as to where their new "homeland" was to be found. The fact that said continent was two-thirds desert was also something that tended to be glossed over, so that the faunus could be considered ungrateful when they grumbled about the fact.

On top of that, just because some influential people had changed their views on how the faunus were to be treated and dealt with, it didn't necessarily mean that public perception had changed all that much, especially when it came to people who had never served alongside faunus during the conflict. In fact, the complaints of the civilian populace of the Kingdoms were increasing steadily, with many people expressing irritation or anger that, even though they now had a homeland of their own, the faunus continued to live amongst them. There were even rumors that at least some of the Kingdoms were considering mandating the deportation of all faunus within their borders to the newly-established Menagerie.

With that in mind, the appearance of a mixed force at their gate, led by a faunus, was being met with no small amount of consternation. Already, Flavius could hear the angry whispers about "animals" being bandied about by the soldiers, and even a few of his fellow Huntsmen. Hands strayed towards weapons, some people sufficiently offended to consider attacking on the spot.

However, none of them did so. At the first signs of hostility, a deadly-chill washed through the air. It wasn't merely an impression or feeling either. A wave of literal cold radiated out from the woman, washing over everyone and everything in the vicinity. All at once, frost began to gather on every exposed surface, breaths condensed in the air, as though the early-spring weather had suddenly morphed into a winter's day. The effects were especially pronounced at ground level, where blades of grass froze solid, cracking underfoot as the woman and her retinue continued forward.

The fact that she was a faunus wasn't the most off-putting aspect of the woman though. Rather, it was her eyes. They weren't an unusual color...not that anyone would have been able to tell if they were. Rather, they weren't visible, the reason being the silver threading stitched across the woman's eyelids, glinting in the sunlight.

The woman's eyes were sewn shut.

The woman's head made no moves as she stepped forward, the other warriors following along behind her. "As expected from filth-ridden trespassers," she declared in a harsh voice, disdain dripping from every syllable. "Barely a lick of manners from the lot of you."

The members of the expedition bristled with anger. However, none of them were inclined to act upon it, the reason being the overpowering Aura the woman exuded. She was possessed of a chill that put the tundras of Solitas to shame. Behind her, Flavius could see the warriors accompanying her were averting their eyes uncomfortably, clearly not happy with her attitude and behavior.

Mustering his courage, Flavius stepped forward. "I am Flavius Arc," he said, choosing to act as politely as he could. "I am one of the Huntsmen accompanying this expedition. I welcome you to our base." Crossing his right arm over his chest, he bowed. "I will now take you to Huntress Albion, our commander."

"Well, it seems that at least a few of you are not completely bereft of proper behavior," said the woman, complimenting her comment with a dismissive sneer. Then she adopted a more formal bearing, straightening, her previous disdain disappearing as she spoke in a level tone. "I am Sakamoto Mao, of the Mibu Taishiro. Take me to your leader."

"Of course," said Flavius. "This way..."

Turning, he led the way through their encampment, the soldiers and Huntsmen drawing back away from Mao and her party. There was no contempt in their view of Flavius now, seeing that his assessment of this unknown party had been in deadly earnest, and distressingly accurate.

Bringing them to the largest building, which served as the headquarters for this temporary settlement, Flavius found the door already open. Entering ahead of the room, he was prepared to announce the arrival of the Mibu representative. However, his words died on his lips when he saw what awaited within.

The main room, typically used for conferences and briefings, was large enough to host twenty people easily, with a large table dominating its center, the head of which also doubled as Blair's desk, where she'd been working before the arrival of Mao had been announced.

But Blair wasn't alone in the room. Arrayed behind her were no fewer than ten of the expedition's compliment of Knights. The machines stood silently, gun-tipped arms lowered, but their red visored gazes staring imposingly at the woman who had entered the room. The moment Blair laid eyes on the blind woman, her upper lip drew back in a disgusted sneer, which was quickly matched by the expression on Mao's face.

Flavius quickly realized that there was little hope of this discussion ending peacefully.

"This is-" he began, trying to soldier ahead regardless.

"I know enough," said Blair, resting her cheek against her left fist, staring irritably at Mao. "Get out, Arc. I'll handle this."

"B-but-" Flavius began to protest.

"I said out," snapped Blair. "Someone needs to tell this animal her place."

"Well well," scoffed Mao. "And this fellow actually got my hopes up that you were capable of some form of civilized behavior. What a disappointment."

Flavius swallowed, edging for the door. He knew this was bound to end badly, yet there seemed to be nothing he could do. Stepping outside, he winced as the door slammed shut behind him. Outside, he saw the ten warriors that had accompanied Mao standing surprisingly at ease, not seeming bothered by the soldiers and Huntsmen regarding them with varying degrees of hostility.

Noticing the man that had stopped his scouting party earlier, Flavius approached him.

The man regarded him with the same dispassionate, stone-faced gaze as before. However, when he spoke, there was a definite degree of consolation in his words. "My apologies for Mao-sama's attitude," he said. "We had hoped for someone more reasonable. But it appears that she was the first available to deal with this matter."

"I'm Flavius," said Flavius, extending a hand.

The man extended his own hand, clasping Flavius' in a firm grip. "Kirei," he said in reply.

"Is she an important member of your people?" asked Flavius, now that introductions were out of the way.

"As one of the Taishiro, she stands at the highest tier of our clan's government, second only to the Crimson King himself," explained Kirei.

So it's like having a Council member show up, thought Flavius.

The Council was still a fairly new thing. In the wake of the Great War, the King of Vale had abdicated his throne, urging his fellow monarchs in the other three Kingdoms to do the same. In their place, a new body of elected officials, called a Council, would govern from now on. It seemed that the Mibu had something similar, though the mention of a king suggested that they were still a monarchy overall.

Still, that meant that one of the most important people in their clan was now speaking with the commander of the expedition, which would at least imply that they were taking this seriously.

"Hopefully, we can end this without bloodshed," said Flavius.

Kirei didn't seem optimistic. "That is unlikely," he said. "Mao-sama is notoriously...provocative."

"You seem to think that it's inevitable that we will come to blows," noted Flavius.

"It is really the only outcome I can see," said Kirei, regarding Flavius with that dispassionate gaze of his. "With that said, I do not bear you any hostility in particular. I only do my duty."

"As do I," said Flavius with a sigh.

The two men regarded one another with wary respect. In the meantime, Flavius couldn't help but notice other members of the expedition, soldier and Huntsman alike, pressing in on all sides, hands straying towards handles, barrels subtly pointing in the Mibu warriors' direction. For their part, the Mibu remained where they were, their bearing calm, but their senses clearly on alert.

This whole situation was primed to explode, and Flavius realized that there was nothing he could do to stop it.

"So...what is it that you want?" asked Blair dismissively, not offering a seat to Mao, though the blind woman settled herself into the chair opposite Blair anyway.

"For you to leave," said Mao simply, her wings fanning back to allow her to rest her arms on the table, revealing that, beneath the mantle formed by her wings, she was dressed in an ice-blue kimono, closed with a white sash. "You will pack up all this rubbish you brought with you, and return across the sea. Tell your leaders that this land was not, is not, and will never be theirs. I give you this one opportunity to depart with your lives. Any further intrusions will be punished with extreme prejudice."

Blair leaned back in her seat, then let out a mocking laugh. "Well...isn't that just adorable?" she asked rhetorically. "You believe that you and your pack of mongrels outside have the wherewithal to order us around." She adopted a mocking smile, then leaned forward. "Let's say, for the sake of argument, that I accept your statement that you 'Mibu' have lived on this continent for as long as you claim to have. Surely you have not developed all its lands. The androids' sensors aren't picking up a speck of Dust on your person. Apparently you don't yet know how to utilize such a valuable resource."

"We know of Dust," said Mao dismissively. "As things stand, we have no use for it."

That took Blair aback. "You don't?" She frowned with contempt. "You're even more backwards than I took you for." She tapped her lip contemplatively. "Well, I suppose, in return for not causing further trouble, we could permit you to learn at least some of how to utilize it. We will be happy to develop your deposits for you, I assure. We will claim the Dust deposits, and you can continue on with whatever meager existence you claim to have, and feed off the scraps from our table."

"No," said Mao simply. "You will leave. There is no need for further negotiation."

Blair's eyes narrowed dangerously. Her nostrils flared in a harsh exhale that sent twin streams of condensation into the air. "Your insolence is ceasing to be amusing," she growled. "I'm being quite generous with our terms, you know. There really is no need for me to be so polite."

"There is not," agreed Mao, conceding the latter point, "which is why I am not bothering. I am well aware of how 'terms', like yours, end up. You will start by taking undeveloped areas for yourself. But you won't be satisfied with that. You'll extend, looking for the resources you want. When you find them, it ultimately won't matter if those resources are on land that has been settled by others for generations, you will simply adjust your 'terms' to suit your purposes, and justify you taking what you want. That has always been the way you greedy outsiders work.

"To that end, we shall head off this inevitable conflict, and nip this evolution in your 'terms' in the bud. Truth be told, we don't have much to worry about, considering the pathetic state of your forces. But dealing with you lot will be a hassle later, so I will handle you now. Leave."

With an angry snarl, Blair shot to her feet, her hand fingers clenching around the handle of her sword, drawing it from its sheath, sweeping it through an over her head and bringing it down to level its squared-off, chisel-like tip at Mao. The blade was pitch-black at the center, with violet marking the edges.

Now Blair was panting with anger, each breath sending smoke-like puffs through the air. "I have had my fill with your nonsense!" she declared. "I was prepared to be a little accommodating, considering that you seem to be nothing more than a bunch of faunus who decided to squat in our territory. But my patience with you has run out. The time for playing nice has gone. Now...you will surrender to Vale, divulge the locations of all your little illicit settlements, and be taken into custody...or you will die."

"My answer remains the same," said Mao, not even flinching. "You will leave...or you will die. If you do not pick the former, I will choose the latter."

"That does it!" snapped Blair. "Open fire!"

Now sound came in response to her command. The Knights arrayed behind her offered no response. Blair bared her teeth in frustration, the tip of her sword beginning to tremble, betraying her anger. Across from her, Mao smirked, one eyebrow going up.

"You defective pieces of Atlesian junk!" snarled Blair, turning to glance in the direction of the Knights. "I ordered you to..."

Her voice trailed off, and Blair came to a horrified realization. Behind her, the Knights hadn't moved in the slightest...because they had become completely encased in ice. It wasn't just them though. The walls, ceiling, and floor of the room were covered over by a layer of ice that was rapidly thickening, the sound of its crackling spread finally reaching her ears. When did she...? How did she do this? She doesn't have Dust!

"Do you see now...just how pitiful you really are?" asked Mao. "It took me no effort at all to break your toys. You failed to even realize that I had already made this room into my territory. And now...you're alone."

"GET IN HERE!" roared Blair at the top of her lungs. "KILL THIS MONGREL!"

"They won't come," said Mao. "Like I said, this room is my territory now. They will have no idea what is happening to you...no matter how much you scream."

"They'll figure it out soon enough!" yelled Blair. "Do you really think that you and your pitifully small retinue will be able to survive against the soldiers and Huntsmen of this camp, and the superior technology we possess. You're outclassed!"

"Actually, the lowlings are a formality," replied Mao. "As those charged with guarding this region, their presence is entirely perfunctory. I would deal with you and yours by myself. You outsider barbarians are only superior in one respect."

"And what is that?" asked Blair skeptically.

Mao's lips curled back in a cruel sneer. "You are better at dying."

"We'll see about that!" shouted Blair, swinging her sword down.

The blade of her weapon, Curtana, was impregnated with the highest-quality gravity-Dust. Wielding such a weapon, and employing its capabilities, required a high degree of finesse. However, it was finesse that didn't even rate as second-nature for Blair. Her sword was a true extension of her own body. When she swung it down, a black wave, lined with violet, cut its way through the table, rushing straight for Mao.

In response, Mao idly brought her right wing across her body, not even unfolding her arms or changing her posture in any way. When the black and violet crescent of Blair's attack reached her, Mao used the feathered appendage to swat it aside, the black energy shattering and dissipating impotently.

The table split in two from the cut inflicted by Blair's attack. Roaring furiously, Blair charged between the two halves as they fell away from each other, now bringing her sword down directly towards Mao's head. Curtana left a wave of black energy in its wake, the sword's blade increasing in weight to the degree of tons though the employment of the Dust in its makeup.

Mao stopped it cold with the leading primary of her wing, her posture unchanged. A slight flicker in the limb being the only sign that Blair's attack had connected at all. Otherwise, Mao made it look as though Blair was the one swinging a feather around.

Blair wasn't about to let that stop her so easily. She followed through with a barrage of attacks, her sword leaving black streaks in the air, its weight increasing upon impact in order to make her attacks all the more devastating. However, all she managed to accomplish was to look as though she was flailing impotently. Mao effortlessly fended off her attacks with her wing, the appendage almost seeming to act as though it had a mind of its own, acting completely independent of the rest of her body, while Mao continued to sit casually, arms folded across her chest. Her closed and unseeing eyes faced straight ahead, almost as though she wasn't even paying attention to Blair's attacks.

With an outraged scream, Blair brought Curtana down with both hands. However, it rebounded harshly against Mao's upraised wing. Then the wing blurred across Mao's body again, and Blair realized that the woman in front of her was just about to attack. She quickly pulled Curtana down, bracing the sword up in front of her chest. She was barely in time, Mao's wing blurring back across her body.

Blair was sent flying back through the space opened by the two halves of the table, smashing through her chair, and slamming right into two of the ice-covered Knights behind where she'd been sitting. Her body smashed the ice...as well as the Knights, whose steel bodies broke apart as though they'd been made of glass. Blair slid down, slumping to the floor, her entire body numbed by the impact of Mao's wing, followed by hitting the wall. Worse still, her limbs were beginning to feel heavy and numb, the sense of cold pervading the room growing with each passing second. Already rattled by the hit, Blair had to rally herself to continue to use her Aura to stave off the chill.

In front of her, Mao rose to her feet. "Even more pathetic than I expected. Perhaps that fellow who escorted me here should have been put in charge of this expedition, he is of much higher quality than you."

Planting the blade of her sword, Blair pushed herself up, gasping for breath. Each inhalation filled her lungs with air so cold that it was like inhaling a knife-edge. Still, with much effort, she was able to stand upright, rallying her strength once more.

Mao merely smirked, her wings folding over her shoulders again. She stood and waited, practically beckoning Blair's next attack.

Blair was only too happy to oblige, charging forward with another enraged shriek. Her sword descended down. This time, Mao made no effort to block the blow, and Curtana cleaved right through her body, splitting the blind woman in two from head to pelvis.

The searing heat of triumph that ignited within Blair's chest was snuffed out when cracks spread from the line she'd cut through Mao's body, the woman's entire appearance fracturing, before exploding outwards. Blair reeled back, shrieking in pain as razor-edged fragments of ice bombarded her, their edges cutting through her Aura, and injecting their cold straight into her body with each contact. Tiny lacerations opened up from the gaps between the plates of her armor, with the armor itself being scored by those minuscule blades.

"It looks like you can't even find me anymore," said Mao, her voice now seeming to echo from all directions. "How sad...fooled by a mere reflection."

Abruptly, a low, crumbling and crackling sound resonated through out the room. Blair turned around, then stumbled back as jagged stalagmites of ice erupted up from the floor, while stalactites descended from the ceiling. Flat, surfaces met at angles, forming knife-like edges. Some leaned at angles, while others stood or hung straight up and down. In mere seconds, Blair found herself completely surrounded by what a forest of mirrored pillars.

And Mao leered out from every single one of them, a sickeningly vicious grin decorating her face.

"Coward!" shouted Blair, her head snapping from right to left and back again, trying to figure out where the real Mao was. "After all your talk, you're hiding behind reflections! I knew you were nothing more than a quivering weakling."

"If that's the case, you should have no trouble identifying the real me," declared Mao's voice, again seeming to echo from every direction.

Blair's eyes eyes narrowed. It was faint, but her ears had been able to pick up a slight discrepancy in the echoes, the way they reached their ears suggesting they were originating from somewhere to her left. Stepping forward, she lunged around the corner of the nearest pillar on that side, spotting Mao standing there.

"Found you!" she shouted, swinging Curtana cross her body.

The Mao she cut promptly shattered, exploding into yet more ice fragments, making more freezing cuts to Blair's body and sending her stumbling back. Her boots slid on the slick surface, and she yelped as she stumbled into the edged corner of another ice-pillar, feeling it grind against the armor protecting her back. Whirling about, Blair shifted, leaning past the pillar, homing in on Mao again...only to cut through another reflection, suffering the same results.

Stumbling and reeling, Blair desperately cast around for any sign of her enemy. But Mao seemed to be everywhere and nowhere at once. Her image grinned out from every flat surface around her. However, the diffusion of light, reflecting off the ice was playing havoc with her depth perception. Some images of Mao were obvious reflections, standing at impossible angles, reflecting the angle of the surface her image rebounded off of. Others looked perfectly real. Her mocking laughter echoed throughout the space, its point of origin seeming to change from second to second.

"Normally, a bug like you wouldn't be worth entrapping in my technique," declared Mao contemptuously. "But it's been a while since I've experienced the joy of being able to slowly torment a weakling to death. When you have a position of such high responsibility as I do, it is rare when one finds the opportunity to indulge their sadism.

"Now then...I wonder which death will find you first. Will you collapse, as the cold seeps into your muscle and bone...or will you die from a thousand self-inflicted cuts? At least you needn't worry about bleeding to death..."

Blair didn't need to ask what Mao meant by that last part, feeling the blood from her cuts freezing against her skin, the chill seeping in through the lacerations, making her body feel heavy.

Growling, she steeled her strength. Roaring defiantly, she surged forward, attacking every image of Mao she could find, striking with strength born from both rage and panic. The results were predictable. Blair was bombarded by shards of ice, scoring her armor and opening cuts across her body. With a surge of everything she had, she swung her sword in a wide horizontal arc, turning her body to execute a complete circle with it, a black and violet wave of energy cutting through all the ice around her.

The end result was that she was subsequently battered from all directions at once. To her dismay, Blair saw more ice rising and descending, new pillars and mirrors appearing, the damage she'd done vanishing in mere seconds. Her breaths were harder, harsher, the chill of the air inhaled into her lungs spreading through her chest. Her vision was beginning to blur, and even Mao's reflections were becoming hard to see.

Stepping towards the next reflection, Blair struggled, her boots crackling as she had to break them free from the ice that was anchoring them to the floor. Her fingers tightened their hold on Curtana's handle, cracking the rime that formed over her knuckles. He next step felt heavy, but Blair took another. She glared at the thread keeping Mao's eyes closed, intending to swing at them. But her arm would't respond. In fact, Blair couldn't feel her arm at all.

"Do you understand now?" taunted Mao's voice. "This was over the moment you chose to raise your sword against me. Against me, you were not an ant against a human, but an ant against a god."

A clang echoed through the room. Mao seemed to grow taller. In fact, Blair had dropped to her knees, Curtana's tip striking the floor. Ice gradually started to crawl up the length of the blade, while more still began to find its way up Blair's legs, from her knees and calves to her thighs, then higher. Her breathing slowed, her vision dimmed. Her thoughts were becoming sluggish, the heat of her anger sputtering and dying in the deathly cold that now impregnated the room.

"Farewell," was all that Mao had to say, the last word to reach Blair's ears.