World Strongest Swordsman (RWBY X Mihawk/Jaune)

Chapter 8: Vale

Jaune: So this is Vale Huh...

As soon as he exited the Manta airship from the docking area, He immediately senses are drawn to the unique energy that permeates this town. Its vibrant atmosphere, a fusion of bustling activity and an undercurrent of determination, resonates with the spirit of those who call this place home.

Tall structures rise to touch the sky, a testament to the creativity and ambition of its inhabitants but not even as high tech comparable to Atlas. The architecture reflects a blend of modernity and tradition, hinting at a society that embraces progress while honoring its roots. The town's layout suggests an organized and purposeful design.

Vale's denizens move with a purpose, their interactions an intricate dance that weaves the threads of community. Yet, beneath the surface, It is as if Vale and its people are poised for a moment of significance, their collective will poised to shape their destinies.

The town was quite busy with humans and Faunus of all kind wondering the streets of Vale with some air ships which is called Bullhead here, Calmly flying in and out of the School of Beacon which was located far from here as it was across from a massive lake.

He continued to survey the surrounding area before eventually growing slightly excited from the surrounding serenity. Exiting the docks, he strode along the street-walk, his jacket billowing in the breeze. His golden crested chained knife brushed gently against Jaune's chest, catching the sunlight in a gleam. Jaune's hawk-like eyes radiated a luminous intensity, capable of piercing through any obstacle, no matter how distant.

Hours slipped away as the swordsman explored the stores of Vale and its offerings. The town's atmosphere felt far more inviting than the technological opulence and wealth-soaked streets of Atlas.

Jaune: Atlas boasts an affluent populace, where opulence finds its abode while Vale envelops itself in tranquil serenity, its surroundings a testament to nature's artistry and cultural resonance.

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As the day waned, the sun casting long shadows across the landscape, Jaune found himself on his way back to his apartment. A sense of contentment washed over him, a result of a day spent exploring the corners of Vale and discovering the places that held a special allure for a quiet respite. Vale's freedom and open embrace felt like a stark contrast to the rigid protocols and haughty airs of Atlas. Here, the air was lighter, the atmosphere unburdened by the weight of constant high security and elitism.

One of the most pleasing aspects of Vale was its people. They exuded warmth and genuine kindness, a far cry from the demeanor of the privileged elite back in Atlas. As Jaune strolled along, the melodic cadence of bird songs serenaded him from the distance. His reverie was interrupted by a sudden shift in the atmosphere, a ripple in the ambient energy that alerted his senses. Turning his gaze to the left, he instinctively decided to investigate the source of the disturbance.

Minutes passed as he emerged from an alleyway, his gaze directed ahead. The scene that unfolded before him was a clash of worlds, a juxtaposition of ordinary streets and an extraordinary confrontation. Black-suited figures, their choice of weapons and design lackluster, engaged in a futile struggle against a girl adorned in a red cape and an elegant gothic dress. Her grace was captivating as she effortlessly maneuvered a large red scythe, the weapon an extension of her very being.

Jaune's curiosity piqued as he observed the girl's fluid movements, her scythe a sweeping arc that deftly dispatched her adversaries. There was an air of competence and power about her, and yet, she seemed to wield it with a measure of restraint. Despite the apparent skill of the goons, it was evident that they posed little challenge to the girl's capabilities. Jaune considered intervening but concluded that the assailants were hardly worth the effort. They were mere pawns, serving as shields for a cause that appeared feeble and misguided.

The fight overall did not seem worth it when Jaune knew he could easily dispatch the people in suit with a single swing of Kogatana which happened to be the named he given the small knife around his neck.

Man: You were worth every cent. Truly, you were.

The man that was standing Infront of the broken window store which seem to be the victim of a store robbery drops his cigar and crushing it with his cane as approaching police sirens are heard in the distant.

Man: Well, Red, I think we can all say it's been an eventful evening, and as much as I'd love to stick around...

He raises his cane and opens the bottom to reveal a rifle with a cross grid.

Man: I'm afraid this is where we part ways.

The bowler-hatted man unleashed a crimson blast towards the scythe-wielding child, who swiftly fired at the ground and gracefully leaped over the oncoming energy. Upon her elegant landing, she scanned her surroundings only to find the man had vanished. He now sprinted through an alleyway to his left, both unaware that Jaune lingered in the shadows, keenly observing their movements. The girl's frustrated search for the man yielded no results, evident in her irritated grunt and a muttered "Damn it..." that escaped her lips.

With the skirmish concluded, Jaune's attention was drawn to the girl's striking silver eyes. He receded further into the alley, making his way back to his apartment in preparation for tomorrow's Beacon entrance exam.

Jaune: Silver eyes... My father's library contained references to them: ancient warriors endowed with the extraordinary ability to petrify Grimm. This girl could potentially grow into a formidable force, a worthwhile investment of my time.

As the night waned, various chance events had filled Jaune's day. Now, these events drew to a close, making way for a new morning and the preparations that lay ahead for the morrow.