Save the world? Fuck that, I want to make money! (RWBY SI) ch 30 (Patreon)

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It was a familiar scene, father sitting by the fireplace in a comfortable robe as he flipped a page on his book. I walked in, sluggish, as I went to collapse on the couch ahead of him. Gerard hummed, idly giving me a quick look before returning to his book. "Busy day?"

"Ntoehr," I replied eloquently as I kept my face buried on the soft pillow.

They couldn't be held in company grounds for long lest they start yelling for their rights so they were instead confined to barracks until further notice. Winter was adamant that they be given over to Atlas for trial but until my father and I agree on it, this was going to be a company matter. Speaking of Winter, she had gone off to return to Ironwood, to debrief him of what had happened and she wasn't exactly attached to my hip. Though that image was starting to get appealing by the minute.

"So, Land has informed me that you've been frolicking with the enemy," my father, the man whom I have grown to respect, dropped with as much gentleness as a bull in a China shop.

"Land is a fucking traitor and should be hung from a gibbet," I muttered as I sat back up on the couch, hating the way that my cheeks started to redden.

"Should I start talking to Willow about letting marriage arrangements?" Gerard asked gently.

"We aren't seeing each other," I insisted then paused. "Yet."

Gerard who had been treating this as an idle amusement leaned in, fully interested. "Yet?" He could not believe his ears. He needed to confirm.

"I'm not a oblivious airhead, I know how Winter looks at me," I snapped. Taking in a breath, I leaned back on the couch to look up at the ceiling. Really, it was rather obvious to me that Winter had a crush on me. I was pretty much the only guy she knew outside of her little brother, her butler, and her bastard of a father. Unlike them however, I was not a family relation, a parental figure, or a servant to her. I displayed positive qualities she approved otherwise she wouldn't have been interested in me. I treated her well too. That is pretty much the secret to getting any decent partner, other than exercising and having a personality to like.

"You make it sound like you are planning something," Gerard noted.

"Well, I am not disagreeable to her however. We'll talk about it like adults," I shrugged. My potential love-life aside, there was something else I needed to talk with my father. "Now, about our little breachers?"

Gerard nodded, closing his book and setting it aside. "Oh yes, them. What was it they wanted?"

"They want us to re-open Steyr," I said bluntly. "And not only that, Robyn Hill is not just any average girl but also the daughter of...well...the Crown Prince."

I blinked as father took the book he was reading and tossed it to me. I yelped a little, catching it mid-air. "Treat books properly, you damn babarian," I hissed at him. Father however leaned back to lounge on his scarlet chair. "That's a Genealogy book. I did a little digging about our guest. Turn to page 5."

Grumbling, I did so. "The Imperial family were supposedly to be murdered when the Color Revolutionaries stormed the Imperial Palace," father narrated. "It was tragic but it cannot be blamed when Emperor Max forbade emotion for years. People will hate that." 

"But some escaped. Not everything can be held to account," I muttered.

"Oh yes," Gerard nodded. "Crown Prince Karl had a son, Otto, who in turn was married late in the fading days of the Great War and supposedly, had a daughter they named Maria Andrea."

I saw the final root of the current tree. A single name, Maria Andrea Theresa Eisfalk. "She had this," I muttered as I pulled out a small box from my coat-pocket. Father stood up from his seat and walked over to my side, taking it from me. He opened it quickly and took out the necklace that Robyn had pulled out. "Do you know what an engolpion is?" he asked as he held out the ornament before me.

"No?"

He shook his head. "It is a medallion worn with a icon in the center," explained father as he examined the purported relic. "And if this is true, this must be the Talisman of Carolus, the founder of Mantle."

"Can we verify it?" I asked. "We could submit it to the Archaeological Society and get it checked."

"Or we can verify it ourselves," hummed father as he strode over past me to a table in the far corner of the room. Raising an eyebrow, I stood up from the couch to follow after him as he gently placed the artifact on it.

"How?" I asked.

"Blacksmith Wayland, our original ancestor, served Carolus's brother initially before he died and became the Chief Artificer for Mantle. To cement his rule, Carolus had our ancestor craft him five pieces that symbolized his power. The Sceptre, the Orb, the Crown, the Talisman, and the Robe. Sadly, these artifacts were lost or hidden during the Color Revolution...until now," father explained before suddenly, his eyes glowed red as aura surrounded him. With hands shining brightly, he placed a hand upon the necklace.

He hummed briefly before turning off his aura. Curiosity swirled in me as I carefully strode over to his side.  "Well?" I asked.

"I had...I had a vision," father muttered as he turned around to me. "I saw our ancestor, son. I saw a vision of the past. I saw how he made it with his own hands, and numerous other things too."

Naturally, curiosity swelled in me. My eyes glittered with the need for the truth. "What was that?" I pressed my father for answers.

"We don't just forge things, you know. Our semblance allows us to understand all things created at a moment's touch but also to see through its memories." Father explained. He then pointed towards the talisman. "I saw how our ancestor made that. I saw how it was passed through generations of Eisfalks, I saw how Archduchess Adelhaid smuggled it and the infant Maria Andrea as the revolution swept the palace."

"I had no idea that we could do that," I muttered, shaking my head.

 Gerard laughed. "Oh, that's really the end of it when it comes to our semblance. Most of our family haven't had the time to explore its depths since we were mostly occupied with being overworked."

"And not just that, we have found Mantle's lost heiress who also tried to steal weapons from us," I crossed my arms, frowning.

"Your grandfather spent time trying to find her, the heiress," Father said, walking past me to return to his seat. "He was at the end of his life. He was a romantic man who saw some romance in rescuing the Imperial Princess."

"Was he hoping to restore them? The Eisfalks?" I asked. Father shook his head.

"I don't really know, he never told me. I believe he wanted to find her as a means to rally the old guard who were rapidly rushing to polish Jacques Schnee's shoes. But that...that is a far off dream now. And old Jacques has much more things to worry than some girl challenging him," Father grinned.

He was of course referring to the fact that the Council had voted to finally shatter the SDC. I only found out later when I was finishing up at the factory and returning home. Good riddance, I felt. This was a good victory not just for their victims but also for Atlas as it cemented the authority of the state. With this, the White Fang would never radicalize as the source of their woes would be getting its shit kicked in.

Holy shit.

The White Fang would never radicalize meaning the world would be spared Adam Taurus and worst of all, Blake Belladonna. But there would be no radical White Fang that would be Cinder's fodder when the time comes for Volume 1. Meaning that there is a chance Vale never gets breached and Vale survives. The future is uncertain now. The only thing left to do is make sure that the company will be armed and ready for it. 

"What does this mean for us?" I asked, turning back to my father.

"It means business as usual. Willow has assured me that while this will shake up the economy, the dust will continue to flow as usual," he dropped casually. I nodded along but paused as I considered what he said. Willow Schnee, the interim CEO?

"Willow has assured you?" I asked with bemusement.

"Oh yes," Gerard nodded absentmindedly. "She's a rather demure woman, you know?" 

I sat in silence as I digested what my father told me. "Father," I swallowed. "Are you going to be...seeing her often?" 

"We will just be colleagues, my boy," Gerard assured me in a tone that did not make me believe him. "Just very good colleagues," 

"You're going to cuck Jacques Schnee," I blurted out. 

​Silence entered the hall, the cracking of the fire being the only sound as Gerard Wayland hummed, rubbing his chin with a single hand. "Now that I think about it...perhaps I will." 

"Why?" I asked, curious. I mean, sure it would be cathartic but that was perhaps the most demented thing any man could do. 

"Well, son. Jacques Schnee has been a pain on my side ever since before you were born. You know, your grandfather once entertained the idea of having me marry Willow?" My eyes widened. I did not know that. Father nodded. "Oh yes, it would have been an amazing match. We would give the rising Schnee name legitimacy and we would have money to cover our bankruptcy. But it fell apart after Jacques convinced Nicholas Schnee that he was a better match since he made the company profits." 

​That...

That honestly would have been a good match. The SDC was a rising profitable company but was still pretty much a nobody while my family was suffering through financial setbacks but had a family name that could be traced back to the very founding of Mantle. It would have made sense. 

"Not only that, that little shit-stain's apathy took your mother," Gerard said darkly. "It is only fair that I take his wife." 

"I will be taking Winter for me, father. That would be awkward for both of us," I said, my arms crossed. 

"Oh, I do not plan to marry Willow. That would be complicated if we did so. She's already facing an uphill legal battle what with the Council growing a pair. Marrying her would only just make this complex situation even more difficult," Father assured me honestly. "And I feel she doesn't want to marry again either considering how married life has treated her."

"So you just want to screw over Jacques Schnee," I surmised. 

"Yup," he mouthed with an audible pop. 

"I see...." I said, massaging the bridge of my nose. "Now, about our Imperial thief. What shall we do about it?" 

"Well, your other homeless Imperial heir is her commanding officer so let her decide," Father shrugged. "I do not think she and her cohorts should be punished by running them through a gauntlet, that will not be fitting for someone of her blood. She may not wear a crown but she has good blood." 

"But she stole from us, Imperial blood or not, a thief is a thief," I muttered.

"Do you want to whip her?" Father asked with an eyebrow. 

​Honestly, I did want to punish her and her happy band harshly. Not only did they steal arms intended for the outside but they also struck into highly sensitive areas in the Foundry. No one needs to know that we are planning to render the Cross Continental Tower obsolete. "I do want the punishment to be hard. No exceptions." I massaged my aching head. "But putting it that way, she is an Eisfalk so we do owe her our allegiance and consideration." 

​"Feeling monarchial, are you?" Gerard asked. I narrowed my eyes at him. "Are you?" 

"Well..." my father thought about it. "I am sure my father would want me to fly the Imperial banner again to get the old guard to come to us. We have the Imperial Heiress, we have one of the missing artifacts of Carolus, and we ourselves are old blood enough. We could go and become a political powerhouse as they flock to a symbol they've been lacking since the fall of the monarchy." 

​That...was something to consider. If we make Robyn our puppet, we could go gather for ourselves a fractured but admittedly wealthy faction of traditionalists that were still in the military, in business, and in politics. We could leverage our already considerable influence via our popularity to restore the Eisfalks in power. 

"What would be the benefits though?" I asked. 

"For one, a restored Eisfalk would mean she would be indebted to us plus we could control the state directly while serving in government or as puppetmasters in the back. I think, with serious backing, this could be done. The current chaos in government with the Council system is plain to see and Jacques Schnee's corruption of everything would give people pause about how the government is run." Gerard pondered out loud. "Your grandfather always wanted to regain our influence lost after the Great War. This is the golden opportunity to let that happen." 

"That represents an overtly public way of getting our influence again," I debated, taking in the form of opposition. From the way that my father was talking, he was seriously considering the idea. I was going to go and argue against it. "There is a reason why puppet-masters do not go public. If something terrible happens, the puppet is blamed and we do not have to suffer the indignity of explaining ourselves." 

"It is because of the lack of accountability that allowed the SDC to grow so powerful, son," father's eyes glinted. "Do you think Jacques Schnee would have gotten as far as he did if the government was stronger and had systems to check and balance him?"

"In time, he would, I feel. Such is the power of wealth, pops," I pointed out. That was the Iron Law of Oligarchy. Overtime, hierarchies devolve into an oligarchy of a few individuals who would administer the system, mostly rich and influential people. Jacques merely sped up the process as he corrupted or replaced the civil service, administration, and military of Atlas. "Plus with what you are suggesting, puppeting the Imperial Heiress, we would be just as shadowy to outsiders."

"There will always be an imbalance in things, son. Someone will give me in a relationship, others will give less. What separates us from Jacques Schnee is that we will make sure everyone gets their fair share to make it a true partnership," Gerard said confidently. "However, this is going to be a big decision that needs time to consider. Confine them to barracks in the meantime." 

"Fine by me," I shrugged. "I will be asking Cheng what she thinks however. By your leave, we should still keep Robyn in should we decide to go full Monarchist." 

"Sounds like a plan," father agreed. 

"And what about her request about us re-opening Steyr?" I asked. That was the important bit after all, something which they took great personal risk by going directly to me. I admit I was rather impressed by her spine in seeking me directly. 

"What do you think?" father asked. 

"It is not a bad idea, to be frank," I shrugged my shoulders. "If we do this, the propaganda value of opening in Mantle would be immense. The locals would be grateful we have opened up there and would offer us their loyalty and all Steyr would need is refurbishment. It was designed to supply an Empire after all." 

"I will think on that, then," Gerard said with a nod.

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Smoke filled her nostrils as she strode through the ruined town, her uniform clung to her tightly, a Wayland Blue tunic with shoulder pads signifying her rank. On her right eye was a glass eyepiece that functioned as a miniature scroll. Around her, her men marched in tandem as they secured the ruined town the records could not name. Apparently, it had been depopulated as its citizens died and the remainder had left for Mistral or Argus to the north. She passed by a temporary cage where figures in rags sat, bandits which had surrendered themselves to her troops instead of fighting. A sick symptom of a ruined society. Knowing that only made Cheng Ming's heart shatter. 

Mistral, glorious and free Mistral, home of the arts, warriors, and seafarers, was dying. 

Every fiber of her soul screamed at her that it was time, that she should call upon the Waylands to let her and her Silver Shields go to storm Mistral, execute the bastard Regency Council that has allowed ruin to come to Mistral and restore order to the chaos. It would only take one call then they would be free to do as they wanted. 

"I know what you are thinking, Princess," a voice cut through. She turned to see Hong stride up to her, arms folded within his robes. 

"I can't help it," she sighed, glancing towards the bandits who refused to look her in the eyes. "Our country side is rotten with marauders and thieves such as those vermin. Our city is divided, the Regency Council tolerates and encourages degeneracy and corruption while the rest is filled with scum and riff-raff." 

"If we make a move now, we will be branded as terrorists and reactionaries," cautioned the minister. "Everyone is aware that the Regency Council is made up of men and women who do not deserve the status they flaunt but they are still recognized as legitimate. Let their ruin come to them. Let their inaction with the growing chaos in the countryside be their ruin. As we speak, my agents are inside the city, fanning discontent against the traitors. As soon as our support reaches critical mass, then and only then, should me go to Mistral. We will be liberators instead of conquerors." 

"We can still execute the Regency Council at least?" 

"As pleasing as that would be, we must execute some and spare a few," Zhuge Hong sighed. "By killing the worst, we show you as someone willing to dispense justice to the worst of the traitors but buy sparing a few, we show that you are magnanimous to the less sinful and allow them to come quietly. We cannot be heavy handed as it will only make our enemies fight harder." 

Cheng glanced up towards the south where she knew Mistral was. She could still remember how the city looked. Majestic and nestled on high cliffs with its waterfalls that the city planners had built around rather than remove. The waters would feel down onto the lake below where a vibrant city lay. One day. Mistral would be reborn anew. 

One day. 

"Anyway, you do not usually come here to me, Hong. What seems to be the issue?" Cheng asked as she turned back to her minister. A wealthy town by the border had hired the Silver Shields to protect them after bandits had been gathering in nearby ghost-towns. With every interrogation of the prisoners, they found out that the scum had been fleeing from the far south as a man named John Brown had organize a coalition of villages both humans and faunus to strike back against the bandits. Apparently, he was merciless. 

Mistral was a no go for them as they would just be arrested at the gates and the port towns would murder them on sight. The northern border was thus their best option as mad as Brown was, even he would not dare march north so close to Argus, Atlas's colony on Mistral's north. 

"A problem that requires your urgent attention," Hong said. "It will be best left if we discuss them in private, Jun Wang," 

And so, Cheng followed Hong to a waiting Bullhead. As they marched, her troops saluted her. 

"Long live Mistral!"

"For the Eastern Throne!" 

She smiled, waving at her army. It had been growing now, Mistralis sick of the current Kingdom all gathered to her. Old and new loyalists flocked to her banner and armed by the best that Royal and Imperial had to offer. Her alliance with the Waylands had offered her fruit and she would be loathe to be away from that. Finally, they entered a Bullhead that closed behind her as she walked in. Hong walked forward and presented her a scroll. Raising an eyebrow, she accepted it. 

"Cheng speaking," she spoke in. 

"Ah, Cheng," came the vibrant voice of Alexander Wayland. Immediately, she brightened up. 

"My most generous client," she greeted him in a similar tone, as he deserved. "It is rare for you to speak to me. Are you missing my presence?" she teased. A colorful laugh entered her ears.

"Cute but I have something important to discuss, Cheng. A bunch of Silver Shields sneaked into the Foundry, stole some weapons, and saw some dangerous and sensitive plans," Alexander dropped without hesitation, earning horror from Cheng. 

"Then they must be punished immediately!" She roared. She loved her troops. A ruler must treat their army as their own kin and they would repay that love ten fold. But if a bunch of morons thought it would be a good idea to risk her alliance with Royal and Imperial, she was going to beat them black and blue. 

"While I share the sentiment, it is not so easy," Alexander said, putting her rage on hold. 

"What do you mean?" Cheng clarified. 

"Well, these happy morons are led by none other than the lost Imperial Heiress of Mantle, Maria Andrea Teresa Eisfalk. She goes by Robyn Hill now to hide her identity." Alexander revealed. Of all directions this conversation would go, she did not expect this. A living Eisfalk...

"I thought that line was made extinct?" Cheng asked, recalling that the Imperial Palace was stormed by a sick populace tired of war and boiling with rage after being made to live like automatons by their Emperor. 

"It's been remade," Alexander chuckled. "We confirmed it since she carried the Talisman of Carolus. It's one of the Pieces of Five, the lost Reichskrone." 

"I see..." Cheng muttered. Now this was complicated. Social convention meant that Robyn should be spared extreme punishment considering her blood. But she had signed on to the Silver Shields where Mistrali law was in effect. Discipline had to be enforced, regardless of rank. Plus, the Eisfalk had brought along her family along their death ride during the Great War. Cheng could respect Robyn's heritage but she wasn't exactly sympathetic to her family. If it weren't for her, Mistral would still be strong by now.

"When we signed on, you and I had agreed that I would have administrative and military control over my army," she began. 

"We did," Alexander nodded. 

"Then I still want her and her fellows subjected to the same punishment per the laws of my Kingdom," Cheng decided. The Five Punishments included amputation, tattooing their crime on a visible portion of their face, forced sterilization, forced labour, and lastly, death.

"Eh...remind me what are those again?"

"Of course!" Cheng smiled and with each explanation, horror grew on Alexander's face.  "We could amputate their hands, legs, or cut off their noses. We could tattoo their crime on any visible part of their bodies, make sure that they do not reproduce anymore by sterilizing them, give them forced labour, or outright kill them." 

"That...that is rather harsh," Alexander said, clearing his throat. 

"Well...such punishments are cruel by design and reserved only for the worse crimes such as treason and spying," Hong helpfully added. 

"And both they committed by going against their oaths when they signed up and sneaking around your factory," Cheng nodded. 

"Fucking hell," swore Alexander. "I wanted a harsh punishment against those morons, not ruin them." 

"Why do you hesitate?" Cheng asked, curious. 

"Robyn sneaked into the factory to directly seek me ought. Brazen but it shows that she's sincere about what she wants from my father and I, to re-open Steyr in Mantle. That's something for me to respect, attempted thievery aside." Alexander said, shrugging his shoulders. "She intended to seek me out, not to steal secrets."

"If memory serves me correctly, Steyr was the armory of Mantle, correct?" Hong asked. 

"Correct. If we decide to re-open there, it would serve the company's purposes well," Alexander revealed. "Steyr is massive and if brought up to specs, it can even outproduce the factory Royal and Imperial is in. Hell, it would even be enough for us to move our manufacturing there."

​"If such is the case...how about turning her and her cohorts into Forlorn Hope?" Hong suggested. 

If Cheng remembered correctly, Forlorn Hope was a name given to Mantlese soldiers placed on the most dangerous position in the regiment which was the vanguard. They were to bear the brunt of an attack until such time officers decided they had served enough or had died.

"...That is not a bad idea, honestly," Alexander's eyes glint with approval. "Having them deal with the worst fronts would be punishment enough and they are all huntresses so they can take it. I like it." He paused. "Do you have such fronts?" 

Cheng turned to Hong who had been taking administrative duties in her stead. If anyone would know, it was him. "Well...we've been getting casualties in a posting at Vacuo. There was a prison outbreak there that spread out of control from the prison and onto the business district. A client has asked for huntsmen Shields for extra defense."

"A prisoner? Who was broken out?" Alexander asked. 

"Some local gangster," Hong revealed. "A man named Jax Asturias,"

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He had been crying since they got him out. It had gotten well in Cinder's opinion. The guards had been sufficiently bribed or seduced by her only for her to knock them out when the time came for their 'reward'. All that was needed was for her to find her quarry and his sister. She did not expect well armed men bearing silver shields to be their guardians. In the escape, Jill Asturias took a missile to the face. It was enough to break her aura and a Deuce round finished her. All Jax had left of his sister was a bloody diadem that she had worn. 

​They were out of the Vacuo now, in a compound that Strangelove had rented. Apparently, the old man hadn't been idle. While she had done the legwork, he had been meeting loyalists to the Vacuan monarchy, promising them an heir. The monarchists were coming, each one from prominent members of society. 

And their prospective monarch was a man weeping like a fool in his room. 

Cinder had left his room to find Strangelove lounging on the roof of their compound, sunglasses covering his eyes as he enjoyed a cold drink. He gave her a glance as she entered his presence. 

"So this is what the dreamers of Vacuo will have, a crying man with far too much love for his sister," Cinder sneered. She shook her head. 

"You were the one that organized their escape, Cinder. Her death lies at your hands," Strangelove responded apathetically. Cinder frowned.

"I did not expect Silver Shield mercenaries to be guarding him!" she all but exploded. "I did not expect they were going to be so well-armed!" 

"Plans go awry. You should have improvised. I thought you had absorbed my lessons, clearly not." Strangelove shook his head, his tone whispering to Cinder that he knew. 

"You knew? You knew that they were going to be there?" Cinder rounded on him, her tone bordering on fury. 

"This was a test, Cinder Fall. A test to see how well you'd respond to events not going your way," Strangelove replied calmly. "It was not perfect, I will say but you got Jax Asturias now. And you have given him something to fight for, to avenge his dear sister. You will have a volatile but malleable king who would be amenable to whatever advice we give him, as long as we frame it in a way that would avenge the loss of his family." 

Cinder paused her rage, thinking of the opportunity present to them now. "And...I go and seduce him?" 

​Strangelove shook his head. "String him along, use your charm and your wits. Be the friend he does not have, fill the void left by the loss of his sister. Convince him that you understand his pain of losing a loved one, be his pillar and make him distrust the old monarchists who would manipulate him. After all, they did not see what he saw, what you both saw," 

​She was finally starting to understand now. By doing that to Jax, they had shared that terrible event after all. The old generals and chiefs would try to show their loyalty to him but they did not see her death, they both did. They were comrades now in that. 

"While you do that, I organize the monarchists and we slowly plan the restoration of King of Kings. Vacuo would be ours," Strangelove revealed as he sipped at his tea. "And from there, we enact our Lady's next plan." 

"Which is?" Cinder asked. She watched as he pulled his scroll out of his pocket and tossed it over to Cinder. Lifting an eyebrow, she glanced at what he wanted to show here there. 

"...Ghira and Kali Belladonna are set to visit Atlas to meet the survivors of Courrieres as well as give thanks to the Council for their decision to give justice to the faunus. They are set to arrive tomorrow morning, at 8 AM Atlesian Standard Time," the reporter said dronily. 

She glanced up to look at Strangelove, mimicking a gun sign to her. "Making history," he said, ending his line with an audible boom. 

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A/N: Plot advances bby.