It is the morning after. The sun shines from the horizen as the villagers of Shion are up early to begin cleanup and rebuilding. After removing the bandit corpses left from last night, the villagers got to work on clearing out debris caused by the Nuckelavee. The adults focused on the heavier rubble and wood beams while some children gathered smaller things, like shingles and small stones. A troublesome task, however, compared to all that went down last night, the denizens certainly aren't complaining.

In fact, although originally cautious, the villagers seem to focus more time on thanking the gang of black dressed men than cleaning up their village. Which was nice after the first dozen thank yous, but now, it's getting on your nerves.

Villager: Once again, we can't thank you enough for what you've done!

(Y/n): Oh, trust me, one was more than enough! Haha!

You force yet another smile as you resist the urge to break this man's fingers while you shake hands. Unfortunately, that Huntsman is standing right next to you, and you'd rather not take the chance. Once you finally free your hand from the unwanted gratitude, the villager skedaddles away as you turn towards the Huntsman. He stands close by with his hand firmly on the shoulder of a cuffed bandit by the name of Shay. Apparently, he's the only one to survive last night's ordeal. Lucky little shit.

Anyway, you find yourselves near an airship platform. For some Gods forsaken reason, Shion is the only village in central Mistral with one. But, hey, you're not one to complain (out loud). This has proven to be a double decker of convenience, as you just so happen to take a pit stop in one of a handful of locations with their own airship, and also save it from utter annihilation. So when the Huntsman and you asked for a ride to the city of Mistral, the mayor was more than happy to oblige.

Aside from getting supplies from the city to make further repairs to the village, the Huntsman needed to take his new bff into custody and report back to some academy, while you wanted to scout the area and gain some information. Luckily, you were going to drag along the two locals from your gang to help, Melanie and Miltia.... Who are currently nowhere to be seen.

Before approaching the platform, you, for some reason, fought tooth and nail to convince the twins into coming with you. Both of whom were very hesitant to the idea until you finally annoyed them enough to agree. After that, they said they had to do something before meeting up with you.

That was half an hour ago, and you're starting to get annoyed. Luckily for you, the Huntsman makes it worse by starting up a conversation.

???: So.... How's your little group holding up from last night?

You hold back an annoyed sigh as you look towards him.

(Y/n): Couple wounded. Three seriously injured, but they'll pull through.

The Huntsman lets out an acknowledging grunt as he tightens his grip as Shay tries shaking his hand off.

(Y/n): Oh yeah, what are you gonna do with this one? It probably would have been easier to shoot him and say he died last night like the rest.

The bandit just gives you a nasty snarl as he glares at you. Emphasis on the nasty, as his face is bruised like he got curb stomped with a combat boot. A tooth can be seen missing as he bares his purely whites. The Huntsman pulls him back as he gives you a questioning look from your statement.

???: I'll be taking him to the city for questioning. A lowly bandit is one thing, but a member of the Branwen tribe? That's just too big of a catch to let go.

Your little conversation is interrupted with a chuckle from Shay, diverting both of your attention towards him.

(Y/n): Something funny, chuckle chode?

Shay: You think I'll have anything to say to you glorified coppers?

(Y/n): I take offense to that.

Shay: You might have gotten one of us, but the Branwen tribe as a whole will still be out there long after my fate. We might have failed, but there will always be other villages! And don't think our leader will forget about your interference. Next time, you won't be so lucky.

You stare at Shay, a look of absolute indifference on your face as you say nothing.

(Y/n):..... Are you finished?

A minute ago, you were desperately hoping the airship would finally get here. Now...? You got a minute to kill.

(Y/n): I'll be honest with you, I ain't numbers too good. But if I remember correctly, we killed about, what, twenty of your friends? Plus, the fact that we didn't lose a SINGLE one of our own kinda makes your little spiel about as intimidating as the pile of corpses we left your tribe members in. The fact that big ass Grimm has done more than your raid says more as well. And about your leader? If it's the red chick with the katana; I love to break it to ya, but I'm not at all impressed.

Shay sported a dumb look during your little retort, but that last bit definitely earned you an angry look. You found his button, now to press the shit out of it.

(Y/n): Speaking of what's-her-tits, she must have been having an off day. Because I practically had her up against a wall like it was the build-up for an episode of SVU.

The Huntsman looked like he wanted to comment on that, but he was desperately holding back a snicker. Shay, meanwhile, looked like he's about to jump you if it weren't for the grip on him.

(Y/n): And I genuinely hope I get the chance to fight her again. Because she kinda blue balled me when she ran away.

You step forward to emphasize your point.

(Y/n): Like a coward.

The angy lil' bandit lets out a snort as he suddenly hocks a loogie at your face... Only for you to launch your hand up and catch that shit. This action catches both him and the Huntsman off guard, stunning them for a moment as you look at the spit and snot in your hand.

(Y/n): Cute.

You wind said hand back and slap the taste out of Shay's mouth with it. Earning you a pained yelp from him as he stumbles back into the Huntsman. The actual glorified copper snaps out of his shocked state and quickly pulls the bandit away, moving himself between the two of you as he sports a serious look towards you.

???: Okay, that's enough!

You let out a bemused snort as the Huntsman tries to keep the dazed Shay on his feet from your brain rattling slap. As you wipe your slightly moist hand on your pants, the sound of a distant engine can be heard getting closer. Turning around reveals to you the long awaited airship.... It literally looks like a boat with wings and a giant propeller where a normal one would be. You resist the urge to question this affront to aerodynamics and just acknowledge it will take you to where you want to go.

As you think that, another thought pops up.... You turn towards the village and scan across every person you see, looking for an identical pair of bitches that should be here by now. Instead, you see some villagers moving a large beam, a pair of lesbains walking in your direction, and some of your Xiongs doing inventory at one of the trucks. No sign of the Malachite sisters, though.

Fuck it, you planned on having them help around eastern Mistral for a day or two while Pen watched over the gang in Shion. Looks like he'll have help with that while you resist the urge to discover how flammable society is--

Melanie: Sorry, sorry, we're here!

You snap your gaze towards the voice and do a double take from what you see. Those two lesbains from before turned out to be Melanie and Miltia.... both wearing completely different clothes. The first sister, who was once wearing a white dress with sharp looking stilettoes, is now wearing a leather crop top jacket with blue jeans and a baseball cap. The second sister is currently wearing a sundress and hat with a pair of large sunglasses over her eyes.

Meanwhile, you too are sporting a new look.... That being of confusion on your face from what you're seeing.

But enough about that! There are currently several other things going on around in Mistral.

Right now, a group of teenagers just killed a Geist several miles south of Shion, near another village. However, even in another reality, we all know how this song and dance goes. So, how about a different verse?

Farther south and out in the middle of the ocean, a large ship sails out to reach the nearest dock in Mistral. In the meantime, it simply floats across the waters, its passengers going about their day as they enjoy the boat ride. On the deck, two children run across the wooden floor playing tag. As they rush about, one almost runs into another passenger looking on at the ocean from the rails. The child apologizes before running off again. The one whose view was interrupted is none other than Pyrrha Nikos.

The red-headed warrior shifts her gaze to the playful children as they disappear around a corner of the deck. A small smile creeps across her lips from the carefree display. That smile soon disappears as thoughts of why she is here flood back to her mind. She turns her sight back towards the ocean. If she squints hard enough, she might see land.

???: There come times when I wonder, "Is it worth the effort to keep fighting?"

Pyrrha snaps her attention to the side and spots one of two people she's traveling with. The silver haired headmaster of Beacon Academy, Professor Ozpin. He approaches his student with his signature walking cane as he stares towards where the children ran off to.

Ozpin: Then there are little moments like this that remind me why I fight.

Shifting his gaze, he stares off towards the water as he stands next to Pyrrha. The young Huntress looks on as well, a little less depressed knowing what she fights for.... It's who she's fighting that keeps her uneasy.

Pyrrha: I just hope what we do will be enough. Especially against... well, her.

Ozpin: I know the journey ahead of us will be difficult, Pyrrha. However, it is a journey we will not take alone. If we can make it to the City of Mistral, we'll be able to get the assistance needed.

Pyrrha simply nods in agreement as she looks down to the water, the waves bashing into the metal hull of the ship. Ozpin notices her silence and tries to think of a way to cheer her up.

Ozpin: Also, if we're lucky, we'll run into your friends as well. I know how much you miss your team.

That statement seems to have improved Pyrrha's mood as she thinks about reuniting with her friends. Ruby, Nora, Ren, and... Jaune. Memories of when they last met flash through her mind. She regrets not joining them, but she was needed in Vale for the time being. Now, however, her regret is soon replaced with anticipation on this little reunion.

As she continues to be lost in thought, she suddenly remembers the third member of their little journey.

Pyrrha: What about Amber? Are you certain she's ready for this?

Ozpin shifts his cane around as he thinks about the Fall Maiden. He shares Pyrrha's concerns for bringing her along after all she has been through, even with a month to recover.

Ozpin: Even after so long comatosed, she is still a maiden. Her abilities are greatly needed for what we'll face, as long as she does not push herself too hard.

Speaking of the should-be-dead girl, somewhere in one of the ship's cabins is Amber. A young woman with a dark complexion with short brown hair and eyes. She sits on the bed as she equips her golden bracer on one arm and golden plates on the opposite shoulder. Don't ask me how that is sensible armor placement, I doubt even she knows. Anyway, she checks the straps holding the golden bling over her blouse and pants as she prepares to leave.

Getting up from the bed, Amber walks to the end of the mattress and reaches down for her weapon. A collapsible staff with Dust crystals embedded on each end, fire on one end, and wind on the other. She holsters it to the back of her waist and moves on to a coat hanger near the door. A green cloak is removed from the wooden pole and easily thrown over her shoulders, leaving her with the appearance of a pickle with a chocolate filling.

As she approaches the door leading out to the rest of the ship, Amber takes pause as she walks past a mirror. She stops where she stands as she sees her appearance. To any random onlooker, they would simply see a moderately attractive young woman. However, it's when she sees her face that she flinches. Across her complexion is a discolored scar. A little souvenir from a certain red dressed bitch... At least her beauty mark is still intact.

She shakes those memories from her mind as she pulls the green hood over her head. Not really in the mood to remember the time she almost died. With everything in order, Amber finally leaves the cabin to meet up with Ozpin and Pyrrha. They will be arriving in Mistral soon and need to get to the city as quickly as possible.

Hopefully, there won't be as much assassins this time around.

[Location: Lake Matsu]

Several miles north of Shion, just west of the large Lake Matsu, two Huntsman journey north into Mistral's more frozen countryside.

One is a woman, clad in a reasonable amount of armor that offers both protection and flexibility. She scans the local landscape with gray eyes as she brushes a lock of light brown hair from her vision. On her hip is a mechanical looking axe, a clear indication of it being a shift weapon. Mounted on one of her forearms is a collapsible shield for convenient protection. This Huntress' name is Heather Shields.

Next to her on this little journey is Shiro Wan, a Huntsman with a tan colored ninja getup. His short black hair rests on the top of his head as he looks on ahead with bored green eyes. On either side of his hips are a pair of daggers with built-in gun barrels.

Shiro: You know, you don't need to help me with this mission, Heather.

Heather: Well, your mission is on the way to mine, so I figure I'd lend you a hand.

Shiro: Hmm.... I still don't know why we're being sent this far north. I'm fairly certain this would be in Blanka or Boyd's jurisdiction.

Heather: Lionheart said they were busy with a Grimm infestation near Argus... Come to think of it, I haven't seen much of the other Huntsmen and Huntresses lately.

Shiro: A lot has happened after what went down in the Vytal Festival. Maybe people are still shaken up from it, so the Grimm have been riled up since then.

Heather opens her mouth to comment but quickly snaps it shut and stops walking. Shiro does the same. Before he could ask what was wrong, he suddenly heard something. Although faint, it almost sounds like.... singing?

???: Yes, sir, yes, sir, three bags full. One for the master, one for the dame. One for the little boy who lives down the lane. Baa, baa, blue sheep, have you any wool? Yes, sir, yes, sir, three bags full.

The singing grows closer with each passing second. The two Huntsmen brandish their weapons as they look around for where the source of the singing is. Heather grips her axe in one hand and activates her shield. Meanwhile, Shiro pulls out his two daggers and, with a flick of both his wrists, shifts them into pistols. Both now scan across the treeline around them as the singing becomes much clearer.

???: Baa, baa, pink sheep, have you any wool? Yes, sir, yes, sir, three. Bags. Full.

The two trained Grimm-killers snap their attentions to one side as they finally spot the mysterious singer. A tall, pale, skinny individual with a dark brown trenchoat. The clothing is unbuttoned, thus exposing a bare chest with multiple scars on it, signifying this individual has been through a fair share of battles. Aside the coat, there are also the white sleeveless jacket and pants, along with knee-high black boots. Attached to the forearms are two vambraces, each with twin extendable short blades. On closer inspection, there appear to be gun barrels on the bracers as well.

A pitch black ponytail hangs down the stranger's back as sinister gold eyes stare down the two Huntsmen. A wicked smile stretches from ear-to-ear, almost as if a laugh is being held back.

Tyrian: Hello, little sheep!

Before either Heather or Shiro could question why a grown man is singing nursery rhymes in the middle of the forest, Tyrian rushes towards them at incredible speed. Shiro tries shooting, only for the creepy bastard to jump up and launch himself towards Heather. She raises her shield just in time for their foe to land feet first on her namesake. Jumping once again, he leaps from her and into the air as he aims his arms towards Shiro. A hail of bullets soon launch from his bracers and fly towards his second prey.

Shiro manages to dodge out of the way with a combat roll, avoiding getting hit from the attack. As he gets back up, however, Tyrian lands in front of him and brandishes the blades on his bracers. Thinking quick, the Huntsman shifts his pistols into daggers and immediately starts trading blades with each other. Although skilled, Shiro is having a hard time blocking most of the attacks. Somehow, every hit the attacker lands seems to hurt more.

Tyrian steps back and attempts a roundhouse kick. Shiro sees this coming and brings his arms up to block. As foot meets arms, the force of the kick hurts his forearms for a moment. However, it's the piercing pain in his chest that catches him off guard. Looking down, he spots what looks like a scorpion tail embedded into his chest. His blue aura pulsates around the offending object as a purple substance leaks out.

This only seems to tickle Tyrian something fierce as he starts to chuckle at his own sneak attack. He cuts it short as he turns his head and spots Heather rushing towards him. Moving quick, he gets around Shiro, wrapping his tail around the wounded Huntsman. With a shift of his body, the faunus manages to throw Shiro at the Huntress. Unable to dodge, she takes the full weight of her partner and is knocked down.

Shiro rolls across the ground before landing on his back, the pain in his chest making it difficult for him to breathe so it takes some time for him to try and get up. That plan is cut short as Tyrian suddenly appears on top of him, throttling his chest as he smiles down on him. Before the Huntsman could retaliate, the demented assassin quickly slashes his weapons at his pinned prey. The blades slice across Shiro's throat, blood splattering across the dirt and spurt out from every pulse. It takes no time before he goes limp, dying while getting dry humped by his killer.

Heather: SHIRO!!

Witnessing the murder of her partner, Heather grabs her axe and shifts it to a shotgun. As she takes aim, Tyrian quickly dodges out of the way, the shot missing him and tearing through the tree behind him. As that falls over, very clearly making a sound in the forest, the ferocious faunus jumps off the corpse and runs towards the Huntress, dodging every shotgun blast with ease. Now face to face, he ducks under another shot and launches himself upward, kneeing his opponent in the face. A pink aura dances across her head as she is pushed back.

Tyrian lands behind Heather and wraps his arms around her neck. She struggles to free herself, only to be rewarded with a scorpion stinger embedding itself in the back of her knee. With a yelp, she takes a knee as she tries swinging her rifle over her shoulder to bash her assailant in the face. This proves futile as Tyrian simply dodges it and soon pulls his stinger out, launching it into her ribs.

Heather lurches to the side from the pain, giving Tyrian all the wiggle room he needs to grab her head. With a violent twist, he snaps the Huntress' neck, her head now angled over her shoulder. This proves quite effective, as she immediately goes limp, her weapon clattering to the ground with her following soon after.

Satisfied with the kill, Tyrian pulls his stinger out and wraps it around his waist. Now all by himself, he looks between the two dead Huntsmen, that sickening smile of his somehow growing wider. Then, it happens. It started off as a little chuckle escaping his lips. Then a giggle. Soon enough, it becomes full blown gut busting laughter as he snaps his head upward. Yipping and hollering for only the dead and the mad to hear.

----

Shay: The Branwens are the best, on Gods!

(Y/n) and The Huntsman's honest reaction: