Escalation 010 (Patreon)
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Pyrrha was universally seen as the pinnacle of sportsmanship and politeness across the professional fighting world. It wasn’t unusual for an opponent to try and unsettle her with brash trash talk and insinuations, but she was above engaging in such petty conflict. She let her fighting do the talking and let the chips fall where they may, and because of this she gained a reputation for being unflappable and unfailingly nice.
And they were right – she was unflappable when it came to combat. Even when an opponent surprised her, she never lost her cool. Even when someone was rude to her, she never allowed ugly emotions to rule a response. Her coaches had taught her better than that and even more, her mother had raised a good girl. She treated people the way she wished to be treated herself and didn’t compromise those ideals.
But even she had her limits. It was just that she had never reached them before.
Nora flinched as Pyrrha slammed several weight plates onto the bar roughly, feeling a twinge of remorse at making her friend uncomfortable. It lasted only a second before that feeling of remorse was dashed against the rocks of her stone cold fury, unmade in an instant. She wasn’t mad at Nora, she just happened to be the person with her at this very moment.
No – Nora wasn’t the subject of her ire. Weiss Schnee was.
Chalking her hands, she rubbed them together before clapping, dust flying as she approached the bar. Getting into position, she shook out her legs and set her feet before bending down to grasp the bar, adjusting her fingers and hands until she had a comfortable hold. Inhaling deeply into her belly and bracing her core, she held for a second before executing the lift, legs extending as she rose into a picture perfect deadlift. Pyrrha remained in that position for several seconds, her muscles like bulging steel bands, unyielding. And then with an exhale, she let the weight down, banging against the floor as she controlled its descent.
Nora whistled in appreciation. “You just cracked your PB – way to go Pyrrha!”
She knew she should be happy about that fact; ecstatic even. She was getting better, getting stronger, and becoming a better huntress. Instead, all she felt was nothing. Unlike most, her anger didn’t burn hot and bright. No – whenever she was furious, truly angry at something, it burned cold like ice. People tend to forget that the cold can burn just as badly as heat, just in a different way.
And a cold, pure anger lasted longer than any burst of fire ever could.
“My turn,” Nora shot to her feet, ushering her out of the way. “I can lift this, no sweat.”
Pyrrha knew she could. She hadn’t met many other women that she considered physically stronger than she was, even amongst huntresses – but Nora was one such woman. While Yang could surpass the both of them with her semblance when it converted enough kinetic energy, at her base, she wasn’t quite so strong. The same couldn’t be said for Nora.
Pyrrha watched as her teammate dusted her hands and stepped up, executing the lift with minimal struggle. A twinge of competitiveness surged inside her but it quickly died down. Unless she used her polarity, she would never be able to lift as much as Nora could. The shorter girl’s semblance made sure of that. The passive effect of her lightning absorption meant that even her own bioelectricity could be channeled to increase her strength, in addition to the usual boost from her aura.
There was no challenging such a beast – not in her specialty.
“So,” Nora began, trying and failing to appear casual. “What has you in a mood?”
Pyrrha grimaced.
She wasn’t surprised that Nora knew that something was off. Pyrrha was pretty good at hiding how she felt but Nora was very observant, and the weekend had been long and torturous. It stood to reason that eventually, someone would notice that she wasn’t quite right.
All because of a single picture.
When she had received the message from Weiss, Pyrrha had been confused at first. The absurdity on display had paralyzed her brain, her thoughts grinding to a halt. As much as she felt that Weiss Schnee was her biggest threat in love, she could never have imagined how far her rival would go, how low she could stoop.
Now she knew – Weiss Schnee had no limits.
She could still see it in her mind. Weiss’ pretty face flushed red across the bridge of her nose, her lips swollen and plump by vigorous use. Around her mouth and across her cheek, streaks of ejaculate painted her skin in very healthy bursts, her ice blue eyes bright with lust. Resting against her face was a very familiar, very thick and hard cock, slick with saliva and remnants of its no doubt pleasurable ejaculation. And to rub further salt into her wounds, Weiss had completed the picture with a peace sign, tilted to align with her eyes.
Pyrrha’s scroll did not survive the aftermath. Her polarity had crushed it into such a tiny scrap of metal and glass that it was unsalvageable. She’d been forced to go to Professor Goodwitch to request a new one, and to lie about what happened. A training accident, she told the teacher – though she wasn’t sure the blonde haired woman completely believed her. Thankfully, all of her contacts and anything else was saved on the cloud.
Including that picture.
There had been a brief moment where Pyrrha was sorely tempted to spread that image. Not only would it destroy Weiss’ reputation at Beacon but it wouldn’t just be contained to the school. She was the heiress to the biggest, most wealthy company on the entire planet. There wasn’t a household on Remnant that didn’t contain Schnee products, that didn’t run off Schnee mined dust. If something like that got out, the scandal it would cause would be catastrophic. Her image would be tarnished and the fall from grace would be long and painful. The white haired girl had clearly not been in the right state of mind when she sent it because she would have known that, and never would have risked it.
But she did – and she knew why.
It was a declaration of war.
“You’ve been funny all weekend,” Nora continued when she didn’t answer. “Is it because Weiss asked Jaune out on a date?”
“It wasn’t a date,” she snapped before she could restrain herself.
Nora frowned. “Sure. I mean, they even said that they were just hanging out – but you don’t believe that, do you?”
Pyrrha looked away.
“The girls on Team RWBY might not know it but I’m your teammate – I know you like Jaune,” Nora rolled her eyes. “So does Ren – only Jaune doesn’t see it. He can be a little dense about these things, even when he is really sharp about others.”
Jaune knew now though. How couldn’t he? Hadn’t she sucked his cock in the shower? There was no misinterpreting that. Pyrrha wasn’t the type of girl to just do that for anyone. There was no ‘she is just being nice’ about it. She’d sucked him raw and had swallowed his load, loving every minute of it.
And then he’d let Weiss take advantage of him.
She knew that was unfair of her to think. Jaune’s feelings for Weiss were very well known. Pyrrha had accepted that even after he had stopped pursuing the girl, there was no doubt lingering thoughts and emotions involved. She also knew that he would never act on them again, that he had attempted to set Weiss up with Neptune. He had stepped aside.
But now Weiss was showing interest. Weiss had sucked his cock; prim and proper Weiss Schnee, little miss perfect who did no wrong.
If the heiress thought she was going to roll over and expose her belly, she had another thing coming. Weiss must have known about what happened in the shower. Why else would she send that picture? Had Jaune told her about it? No, she quickly thought. Jaune would never share something like that. That only left one alternative – Weiss had seen them together.
She was going to crush her. That was the only way forward. If she wanted to be with Jaune, then Weiss needed to be eliminated. They could never be happy together when she hung over them like a specter. Pyrrha couldn’t erase what had already happened. Jaune would always know what it felt like for Weiss to wrap her lips around his impressive, girthy cock – but Pyrrha could sure as hell make sure that it never happened again.
“Uh, Pyrrha?” Nora took a step back. “Are you okay? You’re looking a little unhinged.”
Trust Nora to never mince words.
“I am well,” Pyrrha replied, smiling like a shark. “I just thought of something good.”
Combat Class was the first class the next day. Professor Goodwitch allowed them to pick their opponents during their first class of the week to foster a little competition between the students. Her smile deepened.
Nora hesitated. “Do I want to know?”
“I am simply looking forward to class tomorrow,” Pyrrha clapped Nora on the shoulder, a little harder than necessary. “Come – let us continue. I wish to be in peak condition for tomorrow.”
Nora didn’t bother questioning her again.
Pyrrha didn’t see Weiss at breakfast the next day but that wasn’t surprising. She had been keeping her distance since sending that message but she couldn’t avoid her forever, not when they attended the same classes. The weekend was over now. There wasn’t a chance in hell that she would skip class and then there would be no escape.
She could hardly contain her eagerness.
“We seem to be missing someone,” Ren commented, drawing attention to Weiss’ absence.
Ruby shrugged, spooning a mouthful of cereal into her mouth and chewing. Swallowing, she said, “She has already eaten. Apparently she woke up super early and came down to eat before we were awake.”
Pyrrha buttered her toast, feeling a flash of amusement. As expected of a rat – no, perhaps snake was a more apt animal to describe her. Cold blooded and liked to slither around in the tall grass and strike without warning. Yes, snake suited her much better.
“She’s been acting oddly the last few days,” Yang revealed, glancing at Jaune. He pointedly avoided her eyes. “Did something happen down in Vale? I can’t place my finger on it but – I don’t know. She isn’t sad or angry or anything like that, but I guess she looks like she is waiting for something.”
Pyrrha nodded, applying peanut butter in a thick creamy layer – smooth style, of course; what sort of monster ate crunchy? Weiss probably ate crunchy.
“I – er, I mean, nothing unusual happened,” Jaune answered, lying through his teeth. “We just visited some stores and then watched a movie.”
If her bite was a little vicious, that was pure coincidence. Pyrrha was just a little hungry, after all. She always had a healthy appetite before a big fight – and there was no mistake, but this was a big fight for her. It wasn’t for a trophy or title, or even glory. No, this was something much more important to her. Destroying a competitor was always better with a full stomach.
Nora peered at her curiously but she ignored it.
When they stepped into class for the first time, Pyrrha noticed immediately that Weiss was already there. Dressed in their uniform, she looked immaculate with her hair still styled in that braided way she had worn in that photo. It was another reminder and Pyrrha frowned, feeling that it was done on purpose.
“Good morning,” Weiss greeted them with a smile, her gaze shifting over them before pausing on Jaune. Pyrrha’s hands tightened into fists as her eyes lingered, her smile becoming warmer – before those icy eyes settled on her.
That smile became a smirk.
She was going to wipe that smug look right off her face.
“Hello Pyrrha,” Weiss patted the seat next to her. “Come, sit.”
“Of course,” she returned coolly, taking the offered spot. Their friends sat down around them, Jaune sitting right next to her. Good – it meant that she was seated between them, a wall keeping them apart. “How are you this morning?”
“I am well, thank you for asking,” Weiss tilted her head, her lips stretching a little further, a hint of her perfect teeth showing through. “And you?”
“Excited,” Pyrrha revealed, smiling back with teeth. “I do love the first class of the week.”
“Indeed,” Weiss shifted her gaze to Jaune and then back again. The hair on Pyrrha’s neck stood on end. “This should be an interesting class.”
She knew, Pyrrha understood at once. Weiss wasn’t a stupid girl, even if she was foolish because only a foolish person would have done what she did. She knew that Pyrrha was coming for her, and was going to elect Weiss as her opponent. Why did she look so calm? Was she so arrogant that she believed she could defeat her? Pyrrha calmed at once. Underestimating an opponent was dangerous and Weiss Schnee was not the type of huntress-in-training that you should ever underestimate.
Pyrrha didn’t become a champion by looking down on her opposition. She became champion by treating everyone that stood across from her with due diligence and all seriousness. Her lack of concern was interesting, however – did she have some type of plan? Had she been training, coming up with some type of strategy to overcome her semblance? Perhaps that was why she had been missing the last couple of days.
She wasn’t avoiding her because she was scared – but because she was preparing herself for this moment.
Pyrrha’s smile became feral, her competitive streak flaring alongside her desire for vengeance.
This was going to be good.
When everyone was seated within the amphitheater, Professor Goodwitch appeared and stepped onto the stage.
“Good morning, class,” she greeted, peering around at them. “I hope your weekend was eventful?”
There was a general murmur of assent.
“Very well – we shall get right to it. By now, you all know the drill. Would anyone like to volunteer?”
Pyrrha was on her feet in an instant.
“I wish to volunteer.”
Goodwitch nodded. “Excellent. Would you like to choose an opponent or would you like me to assign someone?”
“I wish to choose my opponent.”
Hushed whispers broke out amongst her classmates. It was well known that she usually allowed their professor to pick out who she would do battle with, sometimes pitting her against more than one person. She had even fought entire teams on her own before, emerging without a scratch. Pyrrha’s reputation and skill demanded such respect. Not once had she ever hand picked her own sparring partner for she had never felt the need. This was a first.
Even Professor Goodwitch looked surprised, eyebrows lifting briefly. “Certainly – and who do you wish to fight against?”
“Weiss Schnee.”
The whispers increased, excitement growing amongst the crowd. Her friends looked surprised by the declaration but when Pyrrha looked to Weiss, she noticed that she was utterly calm. The heiress stood and glanced her way, that very same smirk still in place. Then her lips parted, her pink tongue darting out to swipe across her lips.
Pyrrha felt as if an icy fist had gripped her heart, cold fury spreading through her limbs.
“Very well,” Goodwitch called out loudly, silencing the whispers at once. “Pyrrha Nikos, Weiss Schnee – you have five minutes to change and equip your weapons.”
The walk to the locker room was tense. Neither spoke, the heavy atmosphere following them like a shroud. It wasn’t until they began to undress and put on their combat outfits that the oppressive air was shattered.
Surprisingly, it was Pyrrha herself that broke the silence first.
“I will defeat you.”
Weiss paused in the middle of adjusting her dress, glancing at her over her shoulder. The side was still unzipped, revealing a swath of creamy blemish free skin and long, lithe muscle. Her waist was impossibly slender and her stomach flat, the gentle swell of her hips hidden by the skirt. Faced with her attractiveness only made her angrier, so Pyrrha glared forward at her locker instead while she tied the sash around her waist roughly.
“No doubt,” Weiss spoke up, voice fully amused. “This bout has already been decided in more ways than one. But perhaps you weren’t referring to our coming fight but something else?”
Pyrrha’s jaw clenched.
“I did not expect such a disgusting move from someone I consider a friend, I must admit,” Pyrrha said harshly. “But perhaps I should have. Girls in your position often overstep their bounds because they believe everything is for them, I don’t know why I thought you were any different.”
Weiss scoffed. “Girls in my position? Perhaps you should look in the mirror. Don’t think for a second that I didn’t know what was going on between you and your partner.”
“Excuse me?”
Pyrrha looked to Weiss and found her already dressed, standing at ease with that infuriating smirk upon her lips.
“You believe you are owed his attention. Why not? You are beautiful, after all – gorgeous, even. But you didn’t have it – so you decided to force the issue.”
“What are you talking about?”
“A massage here, a massage there – well played, Pyrrha. Taking advantage of Jaune by using training and recovery as an excuse. No one would expect such a gentle and kind girl such as you to have ulterior motives.”
Pyrrha froze.
That wasn’t true – that wasn’t true at all! Okay, maybe she had been overzealous with her hands on occasion and touching him there had been inappropriate, but it wasn’t like she was trying to take advantage of him. She just wanted to show him that she cared for him, that she had feelings for him and this was the only way she knew how to work up to that. If he had told her to stop, she would have! Weiss made it sound like she was some sort of molester! That she didn’t care about his feelings.
“How do I know?” Weiss prompted before she could respond to the accusations. “I admit, I do not know how long you were instigating these sessions – but did you really think that no one would catch on eventually? Dear Pyrrha – you were not especially sneaky.”
It took a long moment for her tongue to become unstuck.
“Taking advantage – that is rich, coming from you.”
Blue eyes narrowed. “Oh?”
“Asking him out on a date, even though you’ve rejected his advances time after time. You know how he felt about you and then you do this, acting like some sort of slut?" The word felt dirty as soon as it left her lips, though the outrage that she saw cross Weiss’ expression was worth it. “What are you going to do now? This isn’t a game. You can’t just play with him like that.”
“Who says I am playing?” Weiss grabbed her weapon and slammed her locker shut. “I simply saw a friend of mine being led astray and wished to correct it. Is that not a noble cause?”
“By sucking his cock?” Pyrrha snapped.
Weiss shot her a look of challenge. “I wanted to show him who was better. I believe I got the message across.”
Pyrrha inhaled deeply through her nose, held it – and then exhaled slowly, her cold fury bleeding away and leaving her utterly calm. Weiss noticed the change at once and a look of apprehension briefly flashed across her face.
“I am going to break you,” she declared.
“Maybe,” Weiss returned, regaining her poise. “If you can.”
Pyrrha seized her weapons and stormed back to the amphitheater, her mind clear. She knew what she had to do. Nothing had changed after their conversation. It had only highlighted that she was in the right and Weiss was in the wrong. She couldn’t allow the heiress to play with Jaune’s feelings like this. She would put a stop to it, here and now.
Their classmates were getting rowdy by the time they returned. They’d taken longer than their assigned five minutes but Professor Goodwitch didn’t admonish them, simply leveling them both with a piercing stare.
“Woo! Lets go Pyrrha~!” Nora cheered, banging her hands against the seat in front of her. “Smash her~! I want blood – I want blood~!”
“Come on, Weiss,” Ruby countered in equally enthusiastic fashion, waving her hands above her head while Yang stomped her foot. “You can do it~! Uh, maybe? Just hit her once, I believe in you!”
Pyrrha heard Weiss cluck her tongue in annoyance, causing Pyrrha to grin.
“Yes, do try and hit me once,” Pyrrha ribbed uncharacteristically. “If you can.”
They stood several paces apart while Professor Goodwitch took her place at their side. The large screen above their heads displayed their names, as well as their official academy photo and then a percentage bar showcasing their aura as it connected remotely to their scrolls. Raising her shield, Pyrrha set her stance, staring across at her opponent.
It was time.
“At my signal, you will begin,” Goodwitch called out. Their classmates became silent, leaning forward in anticipation. Pyrrha lowered her body, thighs tense as she prepared to attack. “Ready? Start!”
The word had barely left her mouth and Pyrrha exploded from her position, attempting to close the distance at once. She was almost upon Weiss when the heiress opened her mouth and said, “I forfeit.”
Pyrrha came to a skidding halt in disbelief.
There was a moment of utter silence as everyone comprehended her words. That irritating, smug smirk made a return, mocking her as if to say, “Really? You thought I’d fall for such an amateurish attempt at revenge? Pathetic.”
Pyrrha’s hand tightened around the hilt of Miló until her knuckles popped.
“What is your reasoning?” Goodwitch asked coolly, green eyes settling on Weiss intently. “Are you of ill health? Why did you not mention it sooner?”
“I do not believe I can learn anything from this bout,” Weiss answered, bowing her head. “Our skills are simply too far apart. I wish to withdraw for this reason.”
She wasn’t even going to try.
This wasn’t the first time this had happened. The other students at Sanctum regularly forfeited against her, though they usually attempted to fight her for a little while before doing so. While it never happened during any officially sanctioned tournaments, Pyrrha had encountered those that didn’t even bother fighting to their full potential because they believed the outcome had already been assured. It was the same mindset of those people that wouldn’t approach her because they believed she was above them, unattainable, beyond their reach and left her largely friendless and alone.
It was something she despised.
“I see,” Goodwitch nodded. “I refuse.”
Pyrrha perked up.
“What?” Weiss snapped.
“Begin on my signal,”
“Wait!”
“Ready?” their professor ignored Weiss’ pleas. “Start!”
She crossed the distance between them in an instant.
Myrtenaster flashed in an awkward attempt at a parry but Pyrrha blew through her defenses effortlessly, directing the blade away and executing a picture perfect rising kick to the ribs, slamming into Weiss’ side just under her arm. The force of the blow lifted the smaller girl off her feet, sending her careening off to the side. Aura flared in protection but Pyrrha heard her grunt of pain, clear as day.
“First blood goes to me,” Pyrrha said, waiting for her opponent to scramble to her feet. “It seems your little trick failed.”
Weiss scowled, cradling her ribs. “Fine – if you want a fight, you will get one.”
Pyrrha advanced but this time Weiss was ready, twirling her blade and slamming it into the floor. The dust chamber in her weapon spun and knowing what was about to happen, Pyrrha was forced to retreat as ice bloomed across the stage in a flash of white. Several meters of the stage were instantly flash frozen, the surface slick and unstable.
“Come, then,” Weiss wrenched her rapier free and adopted a defensive stance.
“That won’t stop me,” Pyrrha promised.
Analyzing the hazardous field of ice, she made her move. Shifting her weapon into its rifle form, she fired at Weiss while she strafed to the side. Myrtenaster met each bullet with precision, deflecting them away. Approaching the ice, she shifted her rifle back into its sword form before launching her shield with a spin. It hummed as it cut through the air, forcing Weiss to use both hands to protect against the larger projectile.
Occupied as she was, she could do nothing as Pyrrha launched herself across the ice and into her personal space. Grinning, their swords clashed as her shield returned to her arm without missing a beat. Weiss employed razor sharp, piercing jabs, aiming for her vital spots. Pyrrha effortlessly parried each one, driving her back with wide sweeping swings of her shield arm.
“Tch~!”
“Too slow,” Pyrrha said, spinning into her guard and slamming an elbow into the side of her head. Rocked, Weiss could do nothing as she was picked apart, Miló carving off swaths of her aura. Planting a knee in her stomach, she relished the sound of Weiss gasping for breath, folded over her leg, before she grabbed her hair and swung her away.
Weiss slid across the ice, tumbling wildly before she regained her footing. Before she could set her stance, Pyrrha was upon her. Sword and shield flashed as they exchanged blows. Dust chamber spinning, a gout of flame forced her back, the heat oppressive. Now that she had a little space, a glyph spun to life under Weiss’ feet.
Then she rocketed forward in a burst of pure speed. Weiss slammed into her like a comet, but Pyrrha held, shield taking the brunt of the blow. Several more glyphs appeared around them, forming a loose cage. Another burst of flame created distance and then Weiss was a blur, shooting from one glyph to the next, a streak of white that even Pyrrha’s well trained eyes had trouble keeping track of.
That was fine. It wasn’t fast enough.
Pyrrha adopted a loose stance, shield tucked against her side with her sword held limp by her thigh. Taking a deep breath, she waited and it wasn’t long before Weiss struck. She came from behind, directly in her blind spot and Pyrrha moved without thinking, twirling away like a bull fighter as Weiss flew by. She bounced from one glyph to the next, attempting to skewer her. Pyrrha simply danced around each strike, her footwork impeccable.
“Not good enough,” she called, heart pounding as her adrenaline surged. The thrill of the fight filled her, and because of the circumstances she was unusually talkative. “Try harder.”
On her next pass, lightning dust surged. A bolt of lightning arced dangerously but Pyrrha used her semblance to avoid it, her polarity redirecting Weiss’ blade by the barest amount. Wood cracked as it lanced into the floor, splinting under the extreme force and heat.
“That’s better,” Pyrrha praised. “But I tire of this.”
In a feat of unparalleled acrobatics, Pyrrha leapt and twisted as Weiss came in for a follow up strike. Using the momentum of her spin, she corkscrewed above Weiss and lashed out with her shield. It crashed against her face with a sickening crack, ringing her bell. The glyphs shattered all around them as Weiss crashed into the ground, skidding from her incredible speed and almost sliding right off the stage.
Dimly, Pyrrha noticed that her classmates were on their feet – but she couldn’t hear their cheers and shouts of encouragement. All she could hear was the rushing blood in her ears, the pounding of her heart. Feeling giddy, she watched as Weiss slowly stood, shaking her head to clear away any cobwebs. Glancing up, she noticed that Weiss only had a little over 50% of her aura remaining while she was completely full.
Weiss scowled, anger twisting her pretty face.
“I like that look,” Pyrrha commented, gesturing with her sword to come at her. “What else do you have?”
Weiss was fast but it didn’t matter. Pyrrha met each attack with perfect defense, deflecting the best the heiress had to offer and countering with vicious strikes that whittled her down. There was no doubt that Weiss Schnee was exceptionally skilled but there was no getting around the fact that Pyrrha was just on another level. As much as she hated it, there was a reason why she was dubbed the Invincible Girl.
Slowly but surely, she dismantled Weiss in a flawless showcase of power and precision. She did her best to fight against the inevitable but it was hopeless, her head rocking from powerful punches and her body folding over the edge of her shield. Weiss cried out as Pyrrha landed a punishing knee to her chin, head snapping back as she fell. Sprawled at her feet, Pyrrha stood above her like a conquering God.
Another look at the screen showed that Weiss was only a sliver away from the red, her bar almost depleted. Meanwhile, nothing but green graced her own bar.
Satisfaction flooded through her.
“Will you apologize?” she asked calmly, feeling anything but. It wasn’t quite bloodlust but that heady excitement from a well fought battle filled her, making her feel jittery in a pleasant way.
Weiss let out a laugh as she struggled to her feet. Pyrrha stepped back, giving her room.
“For what?” Weiss asked with gritted teeth. Even with her aura, her lip was split and blood spilled down over her chin. “This means nothing.”
Pyrrha smirked. “That look on your face tells me differently.”
Ice blue eyes glared at her angrily. “This isn’t over yet.”
Pyrrha blinked as a tiny glyph formed by Weiss’ elbow, propelling her arm forward. She watched interestedly as Myrtenaster lanced at her face with incredible speed, surprised – she hadn’t known that Weiss could form such small, localized glyphs. Indeed, only her arm speed had been increased, not her entire body.
It mattered little.
She brushed aside Weiss’ weapon with her polarity, nudging it slightly off track so it would harmlessly pass over her shoulder – except that wasn’t what happened. Instead, it flew out of her hand – and at the last second, Pyrrha realized that Weiss had kept her grip intentionally loose.
Myrtenaster tumbled away wildly as the dust chamber ejected a cartridge into the air between them. Small and rectangular, it spun from the force, and Pyrrha’s mind calmly noted that it was bright red in color.
Fire dust.
Alarm bells sounded within her mind but it was too late. All dust needed for activation was aura, and not even Pyrrha was fast enough to react in time. Even Ruby with her semblance would have been too slow.
But that didn’t mean she didn’t try.
Pyrrha stepped back but was met by something solid. A giant black glyph had instantly formed at her back, trapping her. Emerald eyes widened – and the last thing she saw before her world was consumed in flame was the satisfied, arrogant visage of Weiss Schnee as she smiled.
The force of the explosion was tremendous, the shockwave passing through her body and rattling it to its core. Pyrrha choked as the air was forced from her lungs, agony crawling across her skin as fire licked eagerly at her flesh. Her aura protected her from true damage and even dulled some pain, but it could not blunt it entirely. She was caught in a firestorm.
When the fire cleared, she gasped for breath, greedy for oxygen. She was no longer standing, was her first thought. She was on her back, staring at the ceiling as smoke curled around her. Her skin felt over sensitive, her eyes dry and bones aching. The screen high above her head showed that Weiss’ aura had been reduced to zero.
And just below her own picture, the once green bar had been lowered to half.
Pyrrha couldn’t remember the last time she had ever taken damage in a sanctioned fight, it was that long ago. Her first year on the fighting circuit? She stared at her yellow bar, unsure how to feel.
“The winner of this bout – Pyrrha Nikos.”
Professor Goodwitch’s voice was muffled and she almost missed it, and Pyrrha realized then that her ears were ringing. Bracing her elbows against the floor, Pyrrha leaned up and looked around, spotting their teacher at once. Floating by her side was the unconscious, slightly singed form of Weiss Schnee.