Chapter 10: I Like That. I Respect That.
"Mr. Arc, Mr. Winchester." Glynda Goodwitch announced the next matchup in Combat Class, or more accurately supervised sparring period.
Cardin Winchester, a frothing at the mouth racist and all around complete dick head, sauntered his way to the ring with quite frankly completely unearned swagger. Guy was basically a frat boy with a mace that explodes on contact.
And not even a satisfying explosion, more like a cherry bomb.
I'd commend him for wearing armor if not for the fact that so much of it is missing that he is making a fashion statement rather than committing to a sound defensive strategy.
I on the other hand just took off my jacket and aloha shirt having spent my time in the locker room taking a particularly satisfying shit rather than suit up for this class.
"I'm gonna smear you across the ring, nerd!" Cardin cried out when the buzzer rang and leapt into the air to deliver a huge overhead swing.
I watched his face morph in pleasure as I allowed his swing to get so tantalizingly close before I dove for one of his legs, slammed him into the mat, and locked and cranked a heel hook so tight it could press diamonds into coal.
The torque I inflicted on his ankle traveled up to his knee and the poor guy tried smashing me with all the strength he could muster, but the strike and explosion washed over my aura with barely a noticeable down tick in my rating. It did however completely destroy the ligaments in his knee and ankle.
You see, aura is a fabulous system of protection. The soul generates a forcefield around the body preventing incoming force from harming the practitioner, but it provides no protection to forces generated within the body - such as those created by a heel hook.
Goodwitch was quick to separate us after the screaming started, but had no idea what had happened. You don't see many grapplers in an armed combat class for hunters. After all, wrestling will accomplish fuck all against a pitch black elephant covered in a bone white armored exoskeleton, but it is of absolute advantage against aura capable humans. After all, you can spend five minutes beating an aura capable ass hat over the head with a pipe or five seconds cutting off blood flow to the brain.
Simple math.
I popped up off the mat with a big smile on my face and shot my finger guns at Wiess Schnee who looked like she wanted to vomit, either remembering her threat about matching with her in combat class or visually unnerved by Cardin's leg bending in all sorts of ways it's not supposed to.
Nasty.
"Easy win, folks." I declared as I triumphantly took back my shirt and jacket from Pyrrha who couldn't take her eyes off of Cardin's toes.
Which are currently touching his quad.
Nasty.
"Leg Breakers!" Nora shouted as we high fived.
I saw Ren silently manipulating his hands as he mentally recreated the technique.
The four of us sat in a comfortable and companionable silence until Goodwitch got back from the nurse's office and sent me up to the Headmaster's office. Blake looked fairly concerned as I left, but I was having a good time. Ozpin's refined taste in elevator music made for a pleasant experience as I ascended the tallest tower in the fantasy castle that is Beacon Academy.
"I've seen better use of the clockwork fantasy aesthetic." I said as crossed into the Headmaster's office, "Did budget constraints keep you from going full fetish?"
"The original builders had to choose between more towers and an over the top Headmaster's office." Ozpin said as he put down his hot chocolate, "They made their choice and I have never been able to raise the funds to fix it. The bureaucrats feel that a public school doesn't need a heavy clockwork fantasy fetish."
"Bastards." I stated as I sat in the uncomfortable chair in front of the Headmaster's desk only surpassed in rigid uncomfortableness by his own seat.
"The nurse has informed me that Mr. Winchester will be out of the physical courses this semester for his recovery and therapy." Ozpin stated.
"Neat." I nodded my head in reply.
"His injuries are covered under the waiver all student's sign and your action are within the rules of combat class; however, disciplinary action is discretionary at Beacon, and I will need to leave this meeting assured that you will not be a danger to other student's." the Headmaster leaned back in his painful looking chair.
"A week ago I saw a girl throw a punch so perfect that it swapped the colors in the room and rippled the glass floor like a bowling ball dropped into a pond." I spoke softly. "I like that. I respect that. That holds my interest. But, you know what bores me? A world abandoned by its gods, whose inhabitants struggle against the dying of the light. Gather the four key items to open the path to salvation or destruction. I've seen it done before, seen it done better. I'm bored of it just like I'm bored of body snatching wizards and their unkillable wives dragging out their messy divorce across time and being the reason why people can't have nice things."
Then I tipped my chair back and smiled as I balanced on its back legs, "So I am going to drag this world into the future. Kicking and screaming if I have to. Now you get to decide if you are on Team People with Team Captain Jaune Arc, or if you are in the trash bin of history with the rest of the garbage I put there."
The Headmaster took a long sip of his hot chocolate and sighed, "You think you are the first person with a powerful semblance who thought they knew what's going on and what's best? I've seen a dozen such people rise up and crash back into the ground. What makes you think that you are any different?"
"Oh, Ozma." I grinned, "You ain't never seen a man like me."
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