Relic of the Future: Chapter 67, Chapter 68, Chapter 69 Author's Note, Chapter 69

Jaune backpedalled.

The battlefield held no objective he needed to fight over, so ground was given easily. He kept his eyes locked onto Hazel's, ducking beneath one mighty fist and bringing the flat of Crocea Mors up for the second. He didn't block – doing so against Hazel was a terrible idea, as Ren had once learned. Instead, he deflected to the side, diverting the force away and taking only a small crackle of electric into his arms. His nerves burned and his muscles tensed.

Against Hazel, even that could be dangerous. Under the powerful assault from the juggernaut, he didn't try to hold his ground. He moved backwards, drawing Hazel in and keeping him at sword's length.

If your opponent is superior in strength, evade him.

Stepping back and away from right hook, Jaune cut left, rushing around Hazel's right flank while he was overextended. Most people would have taken that chance to launch an attack of their own, to take advantage of the momentary lapse in Hazel's guard. He knew better. There were no such lapses, only feints. Against any other opponent, he might have fallen for it, but Hazel was one of four people he'd spent years fighting.

Not always him and rarely alone, but he'd seen Ozpin fail, Qrow suffer and been with his and Ruby's teams as they were knocked about. You couldn't fight the same person over and over without learning a few of their tricks, and no matter how strong Hazel was now, he'd been stronger in the future. Or maybe that was his perception of the man. He was stronger now, after all, and Hazel didn't seem quite so overpowering.

Still dangerous. Lethally so.

And angry.

Hazel charged in with a roar usually reserved for Ozpin. He swung one fist down on Crocea Mors, aiming to swat the sword aside rather than hit him. Jaune slid back on one foot, stepping out of range as the fist swung by. Lightning jumped from it to him anyway. His teeth ground together as his muscles screamed in pain.

His counterattack was caught on Hazel's wrist, Crocea Mors striking it and bouncing off his aura. Hazel swung his knee up into his gut. It clanged off Crocea Mors' sheath, held in his other hand. With a mechanical whirr it fanned out into the familiar shield. Hazel watched it curiously, seeing the move for the first time and taking it in stride. A shield was protection against certain attacks but not all. Rather than try to get around it, Hazel planted one foot down and slammed his fist into the shield.

The force swept him off his feet. He let it to a degree, using the airtime to catch his breath and build some space – at least what he could. Hazel was charging back in like a raging Goliath. It was all he could do to duck under one swing and score a blow on Hazel's thigh, cutting into the cloth there and rolling past before Hazel could bring both arms down and pop his head like a grape. Dust was kicked up in the spot he'd occupied, and even as he scrambled to his feet, his skin was charred.

How does one fight someone who cannot be hit without harming yourself? Rubber soles would have sounded nice in theory, but Hazel had imbued himself with dust that had lightning crackling through him. Whatever effect that had on the man was clearly not as detrimental as what it was on him. If he blocked, he was shocked. If he attacked and hit, he was shocked through his sword. Even if dodged and Hazel's body came close, the electricity could jump.

What I wouldn't give for Nora's Semblance right now.

As for the big question, it was one that had haunted Team RWBY for a long while. Hazel had seemed so invincible, so powerful. Even Ozpin, admittedly in Oscar's body but still with all his knowledge, hadn't been able to defeat Hazel. How could anyone when harming him hurt you more?

In the end, it had been Ren to figure it out.

"Rarghh!" Hazel struck the ground and kicked up an explosion of raw dust energy. Rock and dirt shot up in every direction, driving the watching White Fang back in fright. As he rose up, however, the crackling across his body faded.

Grunting, he reached down to his belt and retrieved a metallic cylinder. Popping the top, he stabbed it into his thigh. His muscles bulged, veins glowing against his skin. He threw the injector away, adding to the two others discarded during the fight so far.

"How many of those do you have left?" Jaune asked.

"Enough." Hazel threw a haymaker that would have removed Jaune's head from his shoulders if it connected. He didn't let it.

"You sure? I seem to recall you never carried more than six at a time."

He deflected another attack to the side and dove out the way of a roundhouse kick. Hazel was athletic for his size and weight. For once, he got away easy, courtesy of Hazel's attacks now sending out waves of fire instead of lightning. Just as dangerous, but a little less likely to burn him without even connecting.

"Is six your limit?" he asked out loud. "Injecting raw dust into yourself can't be a good idea or more people would be doing it. I'm guessing something bad happens if you use more than that."

Hazel's brows drew down. True or not, he wasn't going to confirm it. It was conjecture anyway; Hazel had always retreated before that became an issue. The main point was letting him know he knew about the limited nature of the vials. In a very real way, Hazel's fists came with ammunition.

"You are a blight on this world, Ashari."

"Me?" Jaune swept back from another fist and darted in – catching himself at the last second and barely avoiding the feint. Flames brushed against his shoulder, catching his shirt. It was a good job he'd ditched the coat, or it would be ruined. "I'm not the one working with the literal personification of all evil. I know what happened to your sister, Hazel. I agree that Ozpin fucked up, but people make mistakes. He didn't let it happen on purpose."

"Do not preach to me of morality. You who kill without thought."

"I kill only those who need to be killed."

"And who are you to pick and choose? Who are you to make the decision? Did Sienna deserve to die? Do the faunus deserve to be enslaved and cruelly mistreated?"

"No."

"And all the people here who died today, for the crime of wanting a better life."

"They chose to become terrorists."

"Because all other options were exhausted to them. You know this. No man wishes to become a terrorist. Driven from their homes, pushed to extremes or just framed for acting out against their human masters and banished, branded as traitors and runaways, left to fend for themselves or die in the wilderness while their masters sit calm and cosy in their homes."

Jaune gritted his teeth. "I never said I liked it!"

"Yet you pass judgment without hesitation. There is never any question in your eyes, no doubt. You enjoy killing. It brings you the rush you crave."

"That's not true!"

"Isn't it?" Hazel barked an ugly laugh. "I saw the look in your eyes when you made the decision to kill Sienna. That satisfaction. Raw pleasure. You may convince yourself it is satisfaction at a job well done, but deep inside you know the truth. You're a monster, Ashari. You're more a monster than I could ever hope to be."

His hands trembled. His knees shook. Ruby, Yang, Blake, Weiss, Ren, Nora, Pyrrha. Their bodies dead and broken, Pyrrha on the tower, the others so much later. Bleeding, broken and spent, arranged on the floor with expressions peaceful in death.

"If I'm a monster," Jaune roared, charging in, "Then it's because you made me this way!"

"Blame others all you like. It changes little. You're no better than what you seem to think Sienna was. At least she had a goal. At least she wanted to help people. What of you, Ashari? Vengeance? Is that what drives you to kill indiscriminately? How many have fallen already to your petty lust for blood?"

"Enough." Jaune gasped for breath. "You'll be next on the list."

"Perhaps," Hazel allowed. "But I'm well aware of the consequences of my actions. I will die in time for what I have done, as will Ozpin. Time and time again until it finally sticks and he stays dead. But what about those you endanger with your methods?"

"I'll keep my friends safe."

"Oh? Is that what you're doing now? What of your daughter?"

"She's safe."

"Is she, Ashari? Is she…?"

Emerald was in Vale. She was away from this. She was… She was…

"You didn't…"

"It would be foolish of us to put all our faith in Sienna. If you're willing to give yourself up for Winter Schnee, the obvious question then became how far you would go for someone closer to you. Tyrian is in Vale already. By now, he'll have found your daughter and abducted her. Soon, he will be out of the city and she'll be meeting with Salem. I'm sure that will be an interesting experience."

Jaune screamed and rushed in.

—Relic of the Future: Chapter 67



Ashari was a beast.

He'd known it long ago, deep inside, but the proof lay before him now as certain as any that had come before. He wore the guise of a man well, but in truth he was mad. Driven insane by some truth that Salem desired. Hazel was sure it would never be revealed unto them, and perhaps that was for the best, for if it had driven this man to madness, he was not sure what it would do to others.

And he was mad. Jaune Ashari was quite mad.

"Rarghhh!"

The sword bit down, carving a great rent into the ground where he'd once stood. The sword dug deep, deep enough that any normal man would have struggled to draw it forth. Ashari, however, simply chased after him, tearing it from the mud and dirt through sheer force of motion, hurtling after Hazel with the blade raised high above.

His stance is full of holes now. It should be easy to take advantage.

So unlike the man normally, unlike how he normally fought. If anything, Jaune had been trying to drive him into a frenzy by constantly bringing up his dear sister. Hazel had refused to allow it, understanding the tactic for what it was, but it looked as though Ashari himself was not quite so immune. Perhaps that was why he believed in it so. If it could work on him, he must surely have imagined it to work for others.

He waited for the next attack. It came in the form an overhead smash and Hazel stepped to the left instead of back, letting it crash down. He stamped one foot onto the blade, ready to slap it down into the dirt.

The rim of a shield crashed into his jaw.

Hazel staggered back, eyes wide. Only his instincts saved him as he ducked low, sword blade whistling through the air above him. He channelled dust into his muscles and struck the ground, causing a huge explosion that blasted both him and Ashari away from one another. Landing on one knee, he wiped a hand across his lower lip, smudging away a small trickle of blood.

How had that hit? His other arm should have been out of place for such an attack. He'd been overextended. Was his madness an act to lure him in? No. It couldn't be. Hazel watched as Jaune dragged himself up out the ground with a mindless rage in his eyes.

There was no faking that, no hiding it.

"Emerald," he hissed. "Emerald."

He lunged forward, covering the distance in huge leaps. It wasn't fast enough that he couldn't prepare for it. He stepped forward, digging a foot into the ground as he through a picture-perfect punch for the crazed beast's face.

Jaune slid beneath it.

Hazel watched, content at first, knowing that the loss of momentum would send the man skidding into the ground, but his face soon changed, morphed into shock when, almost without thinking, the boy drew and fired a shotgun behind him with his shield hand. The recoil, slight as it was, twisted his body on one heel. He allowed it, pulling his stabilising leg up and spinning under Hazel's guard, eyes bright and blue as he swept his sword up in between Hazel's elbows.

Hazel staggered back, eyes bulging as the tip of the sword scratched a line up his nose.

And then the beast was on him.

Hacking.

Slashing.

Screaming.

"Ruby!" it howled. "Pyrrha! Nora! Yang!"

Names? Names that meant nothing to him. Nothing at all! Hazel backpedalled under the onslaught, trying to find footing and regain himself, but it was for naught. Jaune followed, feet so close to his own that they were sharing the same space and breathing the same air.

"Ren! Weiss! Sun! Blake!"

Blake? Blake Belladonna? A coincidence…?

Hazel cursed as the sword caught his arm. He'd allowed the mad raving to distract him. He gripped his arm and drove his head forward, smashing into Ashari's nose. A crack of flesh and blood echoed and even though he swung again, the blow was blind. Shaking his head to clear the blood from his eyes, Jaune looked up in time to take a solid punch to the chest.

Fire erupted from the point of impact. It was like a bomb going off and the man hurtled away.

"Finally," Hazel growled, working the fingers of his fist open and closed. "You fought a good fight, but a monster who gives in to bloodlust can't defeat a man. That's how the world has always been, and how it will remain-"

"You killed them!" Jaune screamed, rearing up again. "You killed them all!"

Hazel could already feel the dust leaving him. He took another vial, popping the lid to reveal the metal syringe. He stabbed it into his arm and watched the shining dust within drift down into his body.

Only two remaining after this, and I won't be able to find more until I see Watts. Will two even be enough? How can I hope to capture him when he's in a state like this? He's more Grimm than man.

Well, time would tell. He couldn't exactly look to retreat, either.

When the man closed again, Hazel was at least ready. Prepared this time for trickery, he kept his guard high and blocked the first heavy slash, deflected the shield and even stepped into the man's guard. His own thrust had his fist clanging against the shield, something he'd never shown before. Jaune tucked it in close to his body and surged forward, more akin to a battering ram than a person.

Hazel grunted and caught it and the two struggled to push the other down, Hazel using two hands and Jaune his shoulder and one arm. The sword flailed above, trying to distract him, but Hazel ignored it. Without proper positioning and room to swing, it was nothing more than a piece of metal flapping around his shoulder.

Still, he was surprised the man could hold up in a test of strength.

Willpower aside, he was twice as heavy as Jaune Ashari. The competition should have been a short one. With the dust raging through his muscles, it should have been an even more foregone conclusion. And yet… Hazel's foot slid back.

"Impossible. That doesn't make sense."

There was skill, athleticism and ability that could exist in more than mere physicality, but strength was strength. He was bigger and stronger, so he shouldn't be the one giving ground no matter how furious Ashari was.

Something flickered past to his right.

Light.

Light was flashing out from the man's hand, from… was that a symbol?

It flared suddenly, fed by a ragged scream torn from the throat of Jaune Ashari. The light shone golden and tinged green, burning like a fire that blossomed into an inferno.

Hazel howled as it exploded between them, throwing his body through the air. He struck the wet ground and rolled, scrambling to his feet and bringing both arms up to stop a downward swing – only to find it, for once, absent. He wasn't the only one who had been knocked back, and his opponent was some thirty or forty feet away, laid flat on his side, one hand pushed down as he climbed to his knees. That same hand was surrounded by thin wisps of green-white smoke. Or perhaps motes of light.

"Ozpin…? No. He still lives within a body."

Hazel's eyes roamed higher, boring into the suddenly far more cognizant ones of Jaune Ashari. The shock had awakened him from his fury, it seemed, for he too was looking down at his hand in confusion.

"Who – what – are you? That power exists only within the Relics. The Relics and one man, one parasite that exists upon this world eternally. No one else has that power. Not even the maidens."

Jaune looked down at his hand. "I… I don't know…"

Lies.

They had to be. Salem was right to hunt him, to seek him. Such power couldn't – shouldn't – exist within this world. Hazel rose up, ready to cast aside his orders and kill the man before he could become more of a threat. He took hold of his final two dust vials, muscles tensing as his body rejected the thought of what he was about to do even before he had.

Before he could, Jaune Ashari fell face first into the mud, spent.

—Relic of the Future: Chapter 68



Jaune walks into a trap, fights it off, slays Sienna and then dispatches Hazel as well? To me, that just makes him sound like Kirito from SAO. Not even GOOD Kirito from abridged SAO. Being able to fight and kill Hazel, sure, but to kill so many White Fang, Sienna and Hazel? All in one go…?

I'm writing Jaune as experienced and tricky thanks to training with Qrow and lots of real-life experience, but he's not OP. I wanted to convey that he was at the level of Hazel, able to fight him equally and maybe even outlast and win, but that he allowed Hazel to get under his skin and that cost him the fight. In my head, the fact he could fight Hazel one on one after dealing with the White Fang was supposed to be proof of his skill. It's not a fair fight and Hazel came in once Jaune was already tired and out of quite a few resources – yet Jaune still nearly killed him. In my head, that was supposed to be a good sign of Jaune's competence.

[...]

If people like it, I could at least change it to make it clearer that Jaune was winning the fight, and to have Hazel rattled and forced to shut his mouth. I honestly thought that was obvious from the fight already, though, but I could be wrong. I thought I'd written the fight in a way that showed Jaune was on top of it EVEN WHEN he fell into a craze. I mean, he was still pushing Hazel back, still winning and still forcing Hazel to dwindle his supply of dust injections.

Also, the "deus ex machina" as some people are putting it (despite that Jaune's strange sigil and its powers have been hinted at for ages) didn't come in and "save" Jaune. It saved Hazel from Jaune. Jaune was hacking Hazel to pieces.

—Relic of the Future: Chapter 69 Author's Note



"We had a plan, Jaune. What happened?"

"I… I fucked up." He looked away, shamefaced. "I was trying to rile him up with information on his sister. Kept trying to make him angry so he'd let his guard down. At the same time, I was wearing down his dust reserves. He's weak without them and he can't take more than six in one fight or he starts destroying muscle and bone. I had him exactly where I wanted him."

"And then…?"

"He turned it back on me. I was the one trying to rile him up, but he managed to do it with me. Brought up Emerald. Made me panic." He shook his head. "I lost it." And what an idiot he'd been to let that take him over. Thoughts not just of Emerald but of everyone else he'd lost. In truth, both he and Hazel had been trying to wind the other up. It was the reason for all the talk.

He'd thought himself better than that.

"I still should have won, though. I got angry but I wasn't insane. I can still remember what happened. I was pushing him back. We were trading blows, but you know how big my aura is. It was when we clashed, though. I was so angry, and I remember a bright flash." He tore off his glove. "I remember this burning, then my aura just… poured out of it."

An explosion, a big one. That alone hadn't been enough to take him out, but he'd somehow poured aura out the sigil without meaning to. Like it was a hole in his soul.

"This stupid thing cost me the fight. Hazel should be dead!" He glared at it, wanting to slam his hand down into the wooden bedpost to `punish` the symbol Salem had scrawled into him. It was glowing faintly, still. Glowing like it did whenever he came near Ozpin.

—Relic of the Future: Chapter 69